Guardian Angels
by Lucinda
Summary: Willow brings Angel back, gaining a Protector while everything around her changes.  AU post Becoming.
1. Angel in Need

Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
First story in Guardian Angel series, which will be Willow/Angel  
  
main character is Willow. Minor W/Oz, but not for long.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: WLS, NHA, Bite Me, Wic, Soul Mates... anyone else I gave a general permission to. Otherwise, ask first.  
  
Note: set after Becoming. Will shortly become AU.  
  
Nothing was right in Willow's world anymore. A single night had tipped the fragile balance that she'd been maintaining between her life as a student and helping fight the monsters that belonged in nightmares and horror movies. Willow had been injured when Drusilla and a group of minions had attacked the library, and even though she'd been released from the hospital, she was still confined to a wheelchair, and suffered from headaches. Buffy was gone, vanished after her fight to stop Angelus from opening Acathala. Clearly, she'd succeeded in that much, but... what had happened? She didn't have any answers, only questions, about Buffy, about the restoration ritual, about Spike and Drusilla. As it turned out, nobody could piece together more than a very few answers. So Joyce Summers was blaming Giles, as if it was entirely his fault that Buffy had been the Slayer.  
  
Willow didn't know what had happened with the ritual either. She was certain that her spell had... well, it had definitely done something. But had it restored his soul? Had she restored him only to have Buffy kill him? No, she'd sent Xander to tell Buffy about the ritual, so she would know. But then, why had Buffy vanished? Why was she being tormented by those dreams?  
  
She settled at the smaller computer that she'd carefully set up, having Xander and Giles help her run cables to the phone line and power outlet, booting it up and mentally debating if it would be better to start with the Watcher Council's website or with Sadira's. She needed to find a good site on dreams.  
  
Oh yes, as if the wheelchair and the headaches weren't bad enough, she kept having troubling dreams of Drusilla. Some were fairly straightforward, reliving the attack, hearing her make her threats, seeing Kendra die, which she hadn't actually witnessed. Nightmarish, but easily explained. Other dreams would go entirely differently. She would be sitting somewhere peaceful, like at the base of a tree under the soft sunlight, and the sky would go cloudy, and Dru would be there, her gown and dark hair fluttering in a breeze that touched nothing else, her eyes bright with intensity, flickering from dark to yellow. Then, the vampiress would speak to her.  
  
"You have to bring him back. Only you can bring my daddy back to me. Bring him back before he's all cinders and ashes... ashes, ashes, we all fall down... have you posies in your pockets, little witch? Can you see the circle? It's made out of fire and evil, let out by the sword… The ring is growing, ring around the roses... ashes everywhere... Daddy fell into the ashes… can you taste them?" Then, she would have her hand on Willow's chin, her nose touching as she looked into Willow's eyes. "CAN YOU TASTE THE ASHES?"  
  
She would always wake up, her pulse hammering, gasping for breath, utterly confused. She'd been having the dream since she'd been released from the hospital. There had to be significance to it, and she needed to figure it out quickly. She had the feeling that there was a time limit.  
  
She was still incredibly wobbly from the bookcase that had fallen on her in the library. She was supposed to be using a wheelchair to go places, in order to allow herself to regain her strength. Stubbornly, she was already trying to stand without it, and to try hesitant, wobbling steps along things, like the back of the couch. Three feet would leave her pale and shaking, her muscles screaming at her and this odd throbbing in her back. She wanted to be mobile again. Xander had said she'd been in a coma, the doctor's had assured her that it had simply been a 'perfectly natural period of unconsciousness following a traumatic injury'. She sighed, letting herself into the school as she slowly wheeled herself to the library. She had a coroner's office to check, and a listing of bodies to prepare. She most definitely couldn't help patrol right now, but she could still research.  
  
At least, in the two hour blocks she could manage to endure. Longer than that and her vision blurred too much, a lingering side effect from where something from the bookcase had hit her head. Or maybe it was from the stress of everything, the questions, the desperate efforts to keep the Hellmouth safe. There was also the fact that she couldn't get to the large tables, the main computer, or almost half the books, including a couple rows on types of demons and…hmmm, magical weapons? She was stuck on the upper half of the library, cursing the architect who'd put so many steps in the school  
  
Willow sighed, her vision blurring from staring at the monitor. She felt so helpless after the attack in the library. She pushed her chair back from the computer, slowly wheeling herself down between some of the shelves. She inhaled, part of her mind finding the scents comfortingly familiar, the library having become more home than her parents house. She shivered, reminded of all the reasons why Sunnydale was dangerous, and of her own helplessness as a result of this wheelchair. She couldn't even try to run away unless she was attacked by some sort of demon snail or sloth-monster. If there even were slow moving types of demons.  
  
Frowning, she tried to recall what Giles had said about Buffy's Slayer dreams, how they could be prophetic, and hadn't there been books to help interpret them? She was almost positive there had been a large, red, leather bound book with copper corners that Giles had consulted. She began searching for it, ending up almost near Giles' office. There were voices inside, Giles and Xander, and they were talking about something serious. Feeling curious, she tried to listen in, wondering what could have Giles sounding so upset...  
  
Another part of her mind half expecting to hear a soft voice with a British accent uttering threats. Dru had been here, had violated the library with madness and death. She shivered, wishing that her dreams weren't haunted by the images and words of Drusilla. Why did she keep dreaming of her, what was the significance of the ashes and of the circle?  
  
end part 1.  
  
"No luck yet, G-Man?" Xander's voice, somewhat sad.  
  
There was a sigh. "No, I haven't been able to find her yet. It's most frustrating. We are certain that she wasn't at the mansion, and the world was not sucked into hell..."  
  
"I could argue that... I mean, its summer vacation and I'm in school. You sure that's not hell? A special kind, just for teenagers?" Xander again, sounding almost like he was trying to deflect focus from some sort of guilty secret. It set off alarm bells in Willow's mind.  
  
Willow tried not to breathe loudly, fearful that she would miss something important. She couldn't quite explain her sudden desire to eavesdrop, but she had a feeling that they would say something important. She closed her eyes, the better to concentrate on listening.  
  
"It might help if we could reconstruct the events as much as possible. You spoke to her before the fight? Did she know that Willow survived the attack at the library?" Giles sounded worried, and she could almost picture him pinching the bridge of his nose while pacing.  
  
"Yeah... I told her Willow lived. She was awake then, and I told Buffy... I passed on a message from Willow." Xander had paused before his sentence. What had he said? Had he tried to... what had he done?  
  
"Willow had you give Buffy a message? What was it?" Giles sounded as if he was trying to be interested, but was utterly exhausted.  
  
She heard a sound, as if Xander was shuffling his toes over the floor. "I told her... Willow said to kick his ass. For everything, you know?"  
  
Willow felt as if her stomach had fallen out of her, and the world was spinning. 'Kick his ass'... she hadn't said that! She'd told Xander that she intended to try the restoration ritual again, and to make sure he told Buffy... and he'd said 'Kick his ass'? She felt something inside go cold and knotted, and her mouth tasted like bile. How could he have done that? Could he really hate Angel so much that he would try to have him sent to Hell? Or had he just wanted the vampire killed, soul or no soul? Had he done it in an effort to win Buffy over?  
  
It didn't matter now why he had done it. She felt the world still spinning a bit, and her vision was blurred and filled with bright specks from having scrunched her eyelids shut so tightly. How could he have done that, betrayed her trust like that? How had he betrayed Buffy like that, denying her the chance to be reunited with her love? She tried to wheel herself back into the depths of the shelves as quietly as possible, her mind still spinning over this heart wrenching discovery.  
  
  
  
What would have happened to Angel if she'd restored his soul? She'd felt him, felt her soul touch his as it passed through her towards his body... had it been in time? She had the sinking suspicion that it hadn't been. Why else would she be having those dreams?  
  
She would have to find the books on Acathala, discover a bit more about what the demon was supposed to do, and how, and what could stop it. Then, maybe she could figure out what had happened. Maybe she could figure out why she was dreaming that Drusilla wanted her to see a circle, and what that meant. The dreams made her shiver, and frightened her, partly because it was Drusilla and partly because she was certain they had a meaning, an importance to them. There was something she had to do, and she needed to figure it out soon. Her hands shook as she picked up a hefty grey tome, covered in something almost pebbly textured. She would take this home with her, that way she could look at it in smaller sections, away from this place. The library just didn't feel safe anymore.  
  
She would go home, away from this place and it's memories of attacking vampires and away from Xander's words that still echoed in her head 'kick his ass'... 'Kick his ass'. Had Xander's jealousy and hatred caused Angel's death? The whole thing was painful and getting worse.  
  
But at least she still had Oz. He hadn't betrayed her, hadn't abandoned her in her weakness. She had Oz to hold her and tell her that the pain would eventually fade, that the headaches would lessen and stop, that she would heal. That it was alright that she still had nightmares. Oz would be there to comfort her while everything was falling apart.  
  
End part 2.  
  
She slowly made her way back home, her head spinning from too many thoughts, and none of them happy. Pondering her nightmares, and trying to pick out the message inside them, wanting to understand why Xander had lied to Buffy, why her head would pound so easily, why she had to have been injured. So many why's, and so few answers. Perhaps she should be grateful that she was alive to have the headaches. Perhaps she should just worry about being glad the world hadn't been sucked into hell.  
  
She wasn't feeling very glad, or grateful.  
  
"Hey." Oz' soft voice brought her attention to her surroundings, and she discovered that she was already home.  
  
"Oz… I'm home? Can you help me inside, I'm feeling particularly wobbly, almost like Jello, which is pretty unnatural for a person to feel like." She smiled at him, noticing that his hair was almost sandy blond, with darker streaks along the sides. Yesterday the streaks hadn't been there.  
  
"Yeah, in we go." He grinned a bit, helping her inside. "You look pale."  
  
Willow smiled just a bit, feeling glad that Oz hadn't been trying to deceive her about anything hadn't been hiding something terrible, well, just the werewolf thing. But that wasn't a problem. "I feel pretty washed out. So, did Devon hear anything from that record guy he said he knew?"  
  
"Yeah." Oz felt more thoughtful in his quiet as he helped her into the house, leaving the chair near the door and letting Willow lean on him as they went to the living room. "Good news, bad news sort of thing."  
  
Willow allowed herself to collapse onto the couch, leaning over until her head rested on Oz's leg. "So… let's start with something good?"  
  
"Record guy called back. He wants us to go audition and play at this club in LA. Might even get a regular paycheck. It could be good for the Dingos." Oz sounded almost smug.  
  
Willow smiled, looking at him with a smile and a feeling that she wouldn't like the bad news. "What's the bad part?"  
  
"The part where we have to relocate. Away from here, which would be good, except… you're here." Oz had this little sad smile, and he tugged gently on a lock of her hair.  
  
Willow blinked, feeling sorrow and resignation fill her. "So… is this the end? No more us? I mean, I want your band to do well, but…"  
  
"Maybe. It doesn't have to be forever, but…" Oz shrugged, as if the whole thing was to messy to explain in words. "I'm your friend, Willow, and I always will be. And if you need me, I'm there. But… I just… it would be too easy for this to hurt you."  
  
She tried to smile. "This does mean I won't get a hey Willow letter, or have to walk in on you and some groupie. But… I mean, I'm glad for the band, and it's a good opportunity for you but… but… I'm going to miss you. And what about the whole wolfy thing?"  
  
"I don't know yet, but I'll find a way." Oz smiled a bit, still touching her hair. "Everything's not over. Maybe I'll come back and see if I can have another shot?"  
  
"Maybe. Who knows?" Willow smiled a bit, her vision suddenly blurry. "But this… we weren't bad together."  
  
"Yeah. We were good. But it's not right for the moment." Oz sighed, looking sad. "Maybe not again. Be happy, Willow. Whatever it takes, I want you to be happy."  
  
"Happy… that would be nice. Can you help me to my room? I think maybe… a nap?" Willow sighed, remembering how she'd thought that she could be happy with Oz. But that didn't look very likely at the moment. Once, she'd wished to find happiness with Xander, but that would require him noticing her.  
  
"Sure thing." Oz helped her to her feet, picking up the book with a frown. "A little light reading?"  
  
"Not quite. I've… been having really weird dreams, and I think it's connected to Acathala. Or maybe the spell for Angel. But I don't know, so I was hoping to do a little research." Willow sighed, her head spinning. "But Giles is so busy trying to find Buffy, and Xander… well, research isn't his strong point. And he… I heard him and Giles talking. I... don't think he'd be much help if it does involve Angel."  
  
"There is a bit of jealousy there." Oz nodded, his eyes sad. "I hope you find the answers you need."  
  
Willow collapsed onto her bed, everything aching and wobbly. Her eyes itched, although she wasn't certain if it was strain or tears. "You're great, Oz."  
  
Oz looked at her, pausing in the doorway as he prepared to leave. "Glad someone thinks so. You're quite the human, Willow."  
  
Willow smiled as he left, before closing her eyes and letting the tears flow. She was glad for his big chance, she really was, but… she would miss having someone to snuggle with, someone that could hold her and make her feel a little bit safer from the scary things outside, from whatever had just made a sort of rattling sshhhhsssss noise outside. Everything was crumbling all at once.  
  
End part 2.  
  
"You still don't see it. You have to see it, to listen." Drusilla's voice rang in the misty air.  
  
Dampness clung to Willow's body as she looked around. It was as if she was wreathed in fog that came to somewhere between her hips and her shoulders, undulating around in an uneven layer that obscured everything. The stars were shining brightly over them, glimmering and sparkling, little whispery hints of sound ringing above in high, crystal voices that she couldn't decipher. Everything smelled like blood and ashes. "Drusilla?"  
  
"Yes. Miss Edith said you didn't understand. I brought you here to show you. Do you hear them singing?" One hand gestured upwards, waving at the stars almost lazily. Drusilla was garbed in a gown the hue of fresh blood, the fabric clinging to her body, looking almost damp from the fog… hopefully from the fog.   
  
"I hear them, but I don't understand the words. Everything smells like ashes and blood… Where am I?" Willow looked at Dru, somehow certain that this wasn't just a dream. Somehow, this was real… or at least, real enough. And it was something that the insane vampire thought important enough to contact Willow from wherever she was.  
  
"The ring opened. But this one wasn't a ring of posies… it was fire and light and pain… and it took my Daddy. Took him away to the ashes and fire. I tried to find him, to bring him back, but I'm not strong enough." Dru was suddenly beside Willow, her cold fingers gripping Willow's hand.  
  
As the dream-Dru pulled Willow along, she realized that she was also dressed in a long flowing gown of the same style that Dru wore, only this one was a pale green color. Her hair was even hanging in ringlets. Dru brought her to a gap in the fog, an area covered in what looked like pale gray gravel surrounding a perfectly smooth black pool. They knelt beside the pool that was not water.  
  
"Look and see." Dru slashed her hand open, allowing the brightly crimson blood to fall onto the surface of the pool. Ripples spread, as if the surface was a trampoline that had been struck, and then an image formed.  
  
Angelus slashed his hand with a sword, running it along the edge, allowing a coating to fall over the blade as he smiled, an expression that held a dark joy. "The blood of the worthy…"  
  
Then, Angelus and Buffy were fighting. That was oddly fragmented, jerky… as if she was only seeing bits and pieces, but not bits that fit smoothly together. Swords clashed, fists and feet flew, and a bright dot appeared on the chest of the huge toadlike shape of Acathala. It grew, becoming a fiery ring around a swirling gray vortex. Angel stood there facing Buffy, a look of utter confusion on his face as the ring grew behind him. Willow could feel the wind as the vortex pulled at her…  
  
"Close your eyes." Buffy whispered the words, kissing Angel. Stepping back, she plunged the sword into him, the impact pushing him back into the portal, which howled, screamed inside Willow's head  
  
The circle flared brighter before closing, taking Angel with it. The pool became black and still once again.  
  
"The burning circle took my Daddy away, and I can't get him back." Dru's voice sounded so sad, so lost. "I tried, but it didn't work. Can you bring him back? Before he's all ashes and gone forever?"  
  
Willow blinked, her mind still reeling from the images. Buffy had sent Angel to hell? The restoration had worked at the worst time… "I don't know."  
  
The mist closed in, swirling around Willow, clinging to her, wrapping tightly and tangling around her, making it hard to breath, to move. The stars faded, leaving her in darkness, the scent of blood and ashes thick, almost choking. Dru's voice echoed, sounding almost distant, or underwater. "You must try…"  
  
She gasped for breath, arms trying to flail. Her eyes snapped open, at first registering only darkness before one of her frantic movements revealed that the dark and half smothered feeling came from being face down against her pillow. Her blankets and sheet had tangled around her, as had the long pale nightgown… Willow's mind froze.  
  
She didn't have a long pale nightgown.  
  
Carefully, she began untangling herself from her covers. She was wearing the same pale green gown that had been in her dream, and she still thought that she could smell blood and ashes. The scent made her shiver, her whole body aching. Dru had contacted her in a dream, asking her to bring her Daddy back before it was too late. Shown her a vision of Angel sent to hell.  
  
She'd wanted to know what the dreams had meant. This had cleared up all of her confusion on that. Angel had gone to hell, and his Childe wanted him back. Dru thought that she could bring him back. Willow wasn't certain which part of that frightened her the most – a crazy vampire invading her dreams, Angel sent to Hell, a vampire wanting her to bring him back, or the possibility that she might be able to do it.  
  
Slowly, Willow let out her breath. Could she do it? Could she bring back Angel from Hell? Turning over the idea in her mind, Willow sighed again. She wasn't certain if she could do it or not, but she wouldn't be able to live with the idea that she'd had a chance to maybe save someone from hell – literally, and had just done nothing. Now, she needed the right sort of book to give her a ritual…  
  
End part 3.  
  
It took her nine days to find a book that might help her. Nine days of searching, flipping through book after book in so many languages that her head throbbed and hurt, her eyes burning with the strain of focusing. In that time, Giles had left, hearing rumors through the Council of a girl in Chicago fighting against vampires. He was going to investigate, hoping to find Buffy.  
  
Nine painful frustrating days where Willow learned more than she ever had wanted about Hell dimensions, cross dimensional time flow, and portal opening rituals. She was about to weep with despair, having found nothing that she was certain would work. All the rituals either demanded human sacrifices or something of the being that she wanted to summon. She'd scoured the mansion, finding a few strands of hair, and a crowbar with a bit of blood on the end, and not too much else that might help.  
  
She would just have to improvise and hope that it wouldn't get her killed or sucked into hell along with Angel. She would use those few hairs, and the sheets that had been on his bed. After all, people shed skin cells all the time, right? Hopefully, that still applied to vampires? And there was a little bit of something dried on the end of a crowbar… a couple short dark hairs… That gave her a little bit. It would be enough for a locating spell, but would there be enough to let her bring him back? Was she even powerful enough to bring him back?  
  
Willow closed her eyes, trying to gather her confidence. She had to try it. She had to gather everything that she would need. And… maybe it would be best to have blood on hand when she did the ritual. Angel had been away for a month, Sunnydale time. That was probably close to a century, maybe two in that place, depending on the time flow. Somebody with far to much time and a morbid sense of curiosity had written a listing of hell dimensions by name, and included precise ratios of their time compared to earth time, but… none of them had been listed as 'where you go if sucked into Acathala's portal'. He'd certainly been gone long enough that he'd be hungry when he got back.  
  
She managed to get all the supplies, and took them to the Mansion. Surely, the place where he'd been taken from would be the easiest to bring him back, right? She set up a few of the things, the candle sticks, the bowls that would hold the burning herbs, and the hair. Nothing that could get easily damaged. Then, she made her way to Willies. There were a few people there, mostly human looking. Some of them might have been a bit… not so human, but Willow didn't care. She was just too busy being glad that nobody was trying anything hostile. Walking up to the bar, she leaned against it's solidness gratefully. Her back and legs were hurting from all the effort.  
  
"You don't look legal for alcohol, kid." The guy had a permanently nervous look to him, and his eyes kept darting around, as if he was expecting trouble or disaster.  
  
She looked at him, wondering if he would try the same hassles that Buffy had complained of, somehow doubting it. Her words were soft, not loud enough to carry to any of the other patrons, assuming they had normal human ears. "Good for me that I'm not looking for alcohol then, isn't it? I want blood, human, fairly fresh. Plenty of it."  
  
He blinked, a slow smile spreading over his face. "What, you decided that you want a pet vampire? Is that going to be the new big craze?"  
  
She felt like crying, or screaming. Instead, she put on hand on the counter, looking into his eyes. "I'm not looking to pick up a vampire. I have that taken care of already. I was trying to keep my vampire from coming out looking for something slow, stupid and helpless to eat. In the interests of your own continued survival, give me the blood."  
  
With a small noise, he went pale and disappeared into a back room of his bar. Willow closed her eyes, not certain if he would actually bring her the blood or not. She had been bluffing, partly. She didn't really think that Angel would eat Willie… actually, she'd been more worried that she would work the magic and pass out, being left alone and unconscious with a vampire that might not remember her and had probably been a century or so between decent meals. Not a good idea.  
  
While she didn't think that Angel would hurt her if he was himself, she was worried that he might not be quite himself when he got back. That he might be too hungry to think, or half mad from his trip. She wasn't so certain of her safety then.  
  
There was a thump on the counter, the vibration seeming to go straight up her arm to her aching back. The cooler looked huge. Willie leaned on it, his eyes fixed on her. "This should be plenty. Now, just…. Try to keep your…. Keep control, okay?"  
  
Slowly, she nodded, a part of her mind trying to calculate just how many packets of blood were inside. "Of course. How much do I owe you?"  
  
In the end, they'd settled on a figure that had sounded high, but was probably not unreasonable. She'd put it on her parent's credit card, a copy of the one they used for all their trips and entertaining. Hopefully, they wouldn't notice the charge.  
  
Getting it to the mansion was… well, painful, time consuming and dull. But it made a lovely table for mixing the various herbs and powders that she needed for the ritual. It took a long time, and by the time she finished, her hands and wrists hurt from all the dicing and grinding and blending.  
  
Carefully, she lit the candles, her movements slow and careful. Not out of any sense of ritual, but from the ache of having already pushed herself to the edge of her body's strength. She began the chanting, having carefully checked the translation of the Latin words yesterday to make certain that they really said what they were supposed to say. No more Molochs.  
  
The fire burned green, flames reaching over a foot into the air as she chanted. Her voice shook with exhaustion. But she didn't want Angel to stay there any longer than necessary. He'd already been there far too long. With the final words, she felt herself sinking to the ground, her legs refusing to hold her up any longer. The green fire from the candles suddenly swirled inwards, forming a burning ring, and then it wasn't just green, but green and yellow and orange and red, with a bitter smoke…  
  
She felt blinded by the bright flash. It felt like it had seared not only her eyes, but into her soul, and it hurt. When her vision sort of cleared, Willow could make out a still form on the floor, messing up some of her careful lines of herbs. She could see every rib, vertebrae in his back, and a covering of blood and ashes covered his skin. Welts and burns marked his body. Long, dark hair fell in a shaggy, tangled mess. She tried to look around the bright after image of the ring. Was this Angel?  
  
"Angel?" The croak that emerged from her throat startled her. It didn't sound like it should be her voice.  
  
He moved, slowly going to a wary crouch. Yellow eyes looked around, as if searching for danger… or food. He looked at her, a low, almost questioning growl emerging from him, and his tongue ran over sharp teeth. He moved a little closer.  
  
Willow looked at him, far to exhausted for fear. She raised one trembling hand, and pointed at the cooler. "Over there. In the box."  
  
He kept watching her as he carefully shuffled to the cooler, still half crouched. He was naked, only the ashes and blood concealing his skin. It was an image that would have been much more appealing if he didn't look so starved and dirty. He looked at the box, his hands running over it, nails far longer, almost claw like. Then, he pushed the lid open, and looked inside. With a sort of curious noise, he lifted the first packet out, running his hand over the smooth plastic before lifting it. He sniffed, and carefully, nibbled at the corner before taking a solid bite.  
  
He swallowed, a sort of contended noise emerging, not quite a croon, not quite a purr. When the bag emptied, he dropped it, reaching for another. Willow felt herself smile, right before everything became dark. Angel was feeding, and not on her. Good…  
  
End part 4.  
  
The next thing that Willow was aware of, she was on the floor. Not quite the stone floor, but on the small carpet near the fireplace, which had a few half charred logs in it. Not only was she on the floor, but… she wasn't quite alone. An arm rested over her waist, and she could feel a body curled up against her, longer legs cool behind hers, and her back pressed against a chest. His head rested on hers, his nose next to her ear.  
  
Well… that was all sorts of weird. But she was getting cold. A careful moment, and she remembered the blanket on the couch. She focused, and it leapt from the couch, unfolding and falling over her. But the magic caused places inside her, the channels for magic to scream and whimper, and her head spun again, blackness reclaiming her.  
  
Her eyes felt gummy when she woke again. Her whole body felt stiff from sleeping on the floor, even on the rug. Angel wasn't draped behind and over her this time. Slowly, she sat up, hissing as the movement sent dull aches of pain through her muscles. Where was Angel? She looked around, and smiled when she found him, again crouched by the cooler of blood. He'd apparently woke up hungry again… or maybe still. Once again, she felt a wave of relief that he wasn't feeding on her. That had to have been one of the bigger risks that she'd taken.  
  
Willow wasn't certain that she could get to her feet unaided, so she sort of crawled to the couch, using it's arm to pull herself to her feet. He was there, near her, his eyes full of uncertainty, far less predatory than before. How long had she slept? When she spoke, her voice was a hoarse whisper, but not quite a croak. "You need a bath, Angel."  
  
He tilted his head, looking at her in puzzlement. One hand reached towards her, slowly. Maybe he didn't want to frighten her? Willow smiled at him, and reached for his hand, feeling herself sway without the support of the couch. He pulled her closer, a tiny frown on his face now.  
  
Willow managed to half lead, half lean on him and get them to a bathroom. The large garden bath might have seemed extravagant at another time, but at the moment, it was perfect. She turned on the water, and Angel jumped, staring at the water with what looked like surprise. Willow made a few adjustments, ending up with water that was warm, not too cold or too hot. She tugged at his elbow, trying to convince him to get into the water.  
  
He moved a bit closer, reaching one hand towards the water that flowed into the tub. It spilled over his hand, and his eyes widened as he saw it washing away the grime. He almost leapt into the tub then, hand rubbing over his skin in an effort to clean himself. Willow smiled as she brought over a washcloth. She hadn't got a good look at his injuries, soap might not be good yet. Eventually, they managed to get him clean, with Willow carefully using the washcloth on his back. The burns and welts had faded, still there but no longer so raw. He was still so thin looking…  
  
After staggering to what had clearly been Angelus' room, she managed to find a pair of loose fitting pants with a drawstring, and convinced Angel to put them on. Willow had also grabbed a comb, and managed to convince him, with a bit of demonstration on her own hair, to allow her to comb out his tangled mane. It fell unevenly almost half way down his back. He seemed to like the attention, leaning back against her, making that crooning purr again. The soothing sound lulled her to sleep.  
  
She awoke, half curled at the pain in her stomach. For a moment, Willow couldn't figure out what was wrong. Then, her stomach clenched, and there was a disturbingly predatory growl… When had she last eaten? Her mind struggled for an answer, concluding that it must have been too long ago. Her stomach growled again, and then Angel was beside her, his yellow eyes full of worry. He held a bag of blood in his hand, almost as if he was offering it to her. Yep, he was definitely offering it to her.  
  
"I can't… I'm not a vampire. I need… solid food." Her voice was less hoarse, but faint. How long had it been? Willow's head felt light, and she was almost dizzy again.  
  
Angel looked puzzled, and then slowly ran one finger over his own sharp teeth, and then reached out, running his finger over her own blunt teeth. Willow let him, confident that he wasn't trying to hurt her. His finger had been cut on his teeth, and the taste of blood filled her mouth. He sort of sat back, looking as if he was thinking of something. Then, he got up, moving out of the room before returning with a knife, a block of cheese, and some dried apple chips.  
  
Willow felt better after the cheese and apple chips. It was hardly a balanced meal, but it was much better than nothing, and better than trying one of those packets of blood that she'd got for Angel. She would probably be able to get Angel to follow her home, so that she could have something a bit more balanced later.  
  
She wasn't very surprised when he insisted on following her. Actually, she was very grateful, since she was still feeling rather wobbly and stiff. He stayed at her side, making the reassuring noise the whole slow way to her parents' house, while at the same time watching the surrounding area in case of any danger. She was just so glad that they had gone away for a 'romantic weekend', despite the unwelcome idea of her parents being all... ughh. It prevented any unpleasant explanations.  
  
"You are welcome in here, Angel." She pulled at her keys, fumbling with them until she could get the door open. He looked around slowly, as if he feared some sort of attack. He looked with surprise at the refrigerator, holding his hand near the cold, and then in the rest of the kitchen. He smiled as he watched Willow put together a more solid meal, standing protectively near her as she ate.  
  
"Looks like I have my very own guardian Angel…" Willow smiled, feeling amazed and delighted.  
  
She gathered a few changes of clothing, and her toothbrush, somehow not surprised that Angel had gathered more of the things that she had eaten. Nor was she surprised at his gentle, wordless insistence to return to the mansion. He seemed more comfortable there. And the Rosenberg house really wasn't sunproof. It didn't even surprise her very much that he ended up snuggled near her again, under the same blanket, one arm over her. There were far worse things than being snuggled up to him.  
  
End Guardian Angel 1: Angel in Need. 


	2. Road to Recovery

Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
Second story in Guardian Angel series, which will be Willow/Angel  
  
main character is Willow. Moving towards Willow/Angel.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
Distribution: WLS, NHA, Bite Me, Wic, Soul Mates... anyone else I gave a general permission to. Otherwise, ask first.  
  
Note: set after Becoming. This has become AU.  
  
  
  
  
  
It was the pain that woke her. The muscles in her back and legs were cramped and aching from the way that she'd used them to bring Angel back. From standing, from walking. Willow tried not to whimper from it, feeling the tears slide out of the corners of her eyes. She didn't know if she would be able to move, let alone stand up.  
  
It was only when she heard the soft noise, sort of a soft rumble, that she realized that Angel was still curled up with her, his body pressed against hers, his hand brushing at her hair. He was looking at her, his amber eyes filled with worry and confusion.  
  
Willow was relieved to know that he was worried for her safety, but wasn't quite sure how to help him figure out what was wrong. He wasn't using words yet, would he understand if she tried to explain? She shifted slowly, rolling a little so that she could face him, and carefully moved her fingers over his arm, following the line of some sort of vicious looking slash, still red and looking almost swollen. "I was hurt… before. I'm still healing."  
  
The skin of his arm quivered, and he watched her fingers trace his wound. With a small frown, he seemed to be trying to think over her words, her actions. Then, he touched her back, and gestured again at his arm, looking almost hesitant. As if he was comparing.  
  
Willow nodded, hoping that he had understood what she was trying to convey. They had both been injured. But Angel looked better already, partly from being clean, and partly because the loose clothing concealed just how gaunt he'd become. He would recover, physically. But would his mind recover? He'd been trapped in hell, or somewhere close enough to still be unfathomably miserable. That had affected his mind, and Willow had no idea how long it would take him to recover from that, if he would.  
  
He brushed his fingers over the tears on her cheeks, and lifted his fingers to his mouth. Sniffing carefully, he licked the tears away. He pulled away from her, tucking a blanket gently around her before he moved out of the room. It was an odd mixture of stalking and gliding, and his movements were as silent as a shadow.  
  
Willow sighed, closing her eyes again. It did nothing for the pain, but her head was throbbing as well. The blanket smelled like Angel. That brought a tiny smile to her face, and she tried to pull it closer to her, to wrap herself up in his scent as well as the warmth. The ritual had probably been too much, far more magic than she should have even considered using. But how could she not try it? How could she have left Angel there and turned her back on someone in need? Even if it did cost her…  
  
She felt the mattress of the bed shift slightly, and smelled grapes and bread. Opening her eyes, she discovered that Angel had returned, carrying a plate of food for her. Grapes, bread, a little cheese… and a glass of water. He still had that worried look, and after settling the plate on the bed, he offered her a grape. Slowly, he fed her the food, carefully lifting her so that she could drink.  
  
Willow felt pleased and grateful and just a little embarrassed about Angel feeding her like that. Granted, she needed the food, and granted, she was in no condition to go after it herself, but… It just seemed incredibly personal. She smiled at that – he'd slept naked beside her, and here she was thinking that him feeding her was personal?  
  
He moved the glass and the plate, making certain that she wouldn't bump into them on the bed, and touched her hair again, a small smile dancing over his face. He touched her shoulder, and then the bed, as if he was trying to tell her that she needed the rest. When she made a tiny nod and curled her fingers over the blanket, he smiled, and moved a little, investigating the room.  
  
She just watched him, allowing his movements to be a soothing thing. Everything still hurt, and she still had a sort of achy feeling inside, probably from the magic. She really didn't think that she would sleep anytime soon, but the idea of just staying here, not moving in a blanket that smelled like Angel and safety… That was comforting.  
  
Eventually, she drifted into slumber. Once again, Willow found herself in the strange fog that wasn't fog, under singing crystal stars. But the place no longer smelled of blood and ashes, now it smelled of growing things, and stagnant water, and the strange scent that ground gets when it's hot. Apparently, Drusilla had decided to contact her again.  
  
"Did you bring him back? Is my Daddy alright?" The voice was filled with worry, and the fog parted, revealing Drusilla, wearing a gown in bone white, a shawl in crimson and orange and gold and white draped over her shoulders. Behind her, a figure stood, taller, more slender, with pale hair. A hint of cigarette smoke came from that direction, and Willow knew that the presence was Spike, even if he wasn't actually here, he existed in Drusilla's world.  
  
"Hello again, Dru." Willow offered a small smile, stretching her arms as she lifted onto her toes. Nothing hurt here, in this dream-place. Once again, she was dressed in a long, flowing gown, this one a deep burgundy color.   
  
Dru took one of Willow's hands into her own cool grip, and looked at her, her eyes flickering over Willow, her whole being attentive. "Is he safe now?"  
  
"Sunnydale isn't ever really safe. I brought him back, he's not in the place of fire and ashes anymore." Willow offered a bit of reassurance, hoping that Dru would be pleased.  
  
"Oh, wonderful! Perhaps we should go meet you for tea?" Her smile was intense, and in that moment, Willow understood the woman's beauty, her deadly seductive appeal.  
  
"No, Dru. I don't think that would be good yet. I brought him back, but… He's not well. That place wasn't good for him, and he's been hurt. He needs time to regain his strength, and also to remember how to be himself again." Willow tried to make the vampires understand.  
  
"How to be himself? But…" She wrinkled her brow, looking puzzled. "How could he not be himself?"  
  
"He isn't using words. None at all, and I'm not sure if he's understanding them. That place… he's lost weight, nearly starved. I could count every rib, each bump on his backbone. Being there hurt him, body and mind. He needs to get better." She tried to picture him when he'd first returned, and a patch of the fog pulled away, revealing an image, slightly translucent, but clearly the ash and blood covered figure that she'd first seen after the spell.  
  
"ohhh…." Drusilla dropped Willow's hand, reaching towards the image with an expression of worry and shock. "What have they done to my poor Daddy?"  
  
"I'm going to help him get better." Her words were soft, and Willow wasn't certain if it was wise to worry about Dru so much. But she obviously worried about Angel. "It might take a while, but I'm going to help him."  
  
"Yes, help him get better, little witch. Help my Daddy." Dru's voice faded, and everything blurred into the fog.  
  
Willow shifted a little in her sleep, whimpering a bit as the movement pulled at sore muscles. Angel slipped onto the bed, curling up behind her, wrapping his body around her, tugging the blanket a bit so that it wrapped around them both. He ran his fingers gently over her arm, the action seeming to soothe her in her dreams. Eventually, they both slept quietly, snuggled under the blanket.  
  
End part 1.  
  
Willow felt better when she woke again. Her muscles were only sore, aching instead of radiating waves of agony. Her head felt… sort of over sized and fuzzy, but it didn't really hurt. And she was hungry. Angel was snuggled up against her, his arm curling around, elbow near her hip, and his hand… umm. Somehow, his hand had ended up just under her breast. His head was leaning on hers, his cool lips touching the top of her shoulder.  
  
An observer would have thought the pair of them to be young lovers, curled up together so intimately. The idea made her blush, but more from embarrassment at the idea of someone watching her sleep that any sort of distaste for the idea of dating Angel. Granted, there were reasons to think carefully about that idea, like the clause that had caused disaster for him and Buffy, like the fact that she'd just separated from Oz, like the fact that she wasn't certain how much Angel was even thinking, let alone if he was thinking of her as a potential lover…  
  
With a small smile, she carefully moved Angel's hand, shifting his arm so that she would be able to get out of the bed. Gently, she lifted his head, allowing her to make a twist and sort of scootching movement out from under him. Granted, it had felt wonderfully safe and protecting, but… She had to get out of the bed. She needed the bathroom and food, pretty much in that order.  
  
Walking was painful, her legs half numb, half aching in a manner similar to bruises, and she leaned against the wall as she slowly hobbled to the bathroom. She felt a lot better after that, and even though the trip to the kitchen was an incredibly long journey, she had a faint smile. She was getting better, healing. And thanks to Angel, there should be some food to eat.  
  
She was sitting at the table, devouring her second peanut butter and jelly sandwich when Angel entered the kitchen. He looked… a little worried, and smiled when he was her. He came over, touching her shoulder gently, a hint of a frown almost managing to stay on his face. He'd worried when she wasn't there, apparently.  
  
"I didn't mean to worry you, Angel. I was just… hungry." Willow sighed, not wanting to worry Angel, or to delay his recovery. Perhaps she should let him know before she left, at least until he was thinking more clearly?   
  
He seemed to relax a little, and made his way over to the cooler of blood bags, now in the corner of the kitchen. Opening it, he pulled out a few bags, closing the lid again. Holding them, he paused a few moments, as if thinking about something before he walked over to the table, and carefully sat at the other chair, glancing at her before adjusting his pose a little. It was as if he was trying to follow the rules of behavior, and she was his only clue. He then drank his blood, looking at the empty bags with a small frown.  
  
"They go in the trash can. Over there." Willow gestured towards the small trash can, hoping that he would understand her.   
  
Angel stood up, gathering the flattened bits of plastic, and made his way towards the can, peering into it cautiously, as if he half expected something to be inside of it. He held the bags over it, glancing towards Willow. At her smile and nod, he dropped them into the can before returning to the table.  
  
That made Willow smile, and she reached out, her fingertips just barely touching Angel's. "You'll remember. Things here aren't so bad."  
  
He smiled back, a bit hesitantly.  
  
Willow hardly even thought about the fact that he'd kept his vampire features the whole time that he'd been back. Not even for a moment had his human features shown themselves. And for some reason, it didn't bother her, didn't frighten her that those same golden eyes had glared hatefully at all of them, that those same sharp teeth had nearly sank into her throat in the hall of the school when Angelus was running rampant.  
  
Finishing her food, Willow made her slow way to the corner where his cooler was. Flipping up the lid, she looked, curious how much would be remaining, how much longer the massive amount of blood that she'd purchased would last. There was no more than a dozen packets left, stacked neatly on the bottom. Almost all of them were gone. Glancing up as she shut the lid, she looked at Angel. "You were very hungry, weren't you? We'll have to go buy more blood for you, you really don't look up to hunting, or picking up carry out on your own. That can wait until later though."  
  
End part 2.  
  
There was really no other option. She would have to drive to Willie's, everything hurt too much to even consider walking. Of course, convincing Angel to ride in the car with her had been a rather long seeming process, but she'd managed. He had this doubtful look, and kept glancing towards the hood, as if he half expected whatever was making the noise to rebel and attack them. Willie's looked just as miserable and unhealthy now as it had been those days before, when she'd purchased blood in preparation for bringing Angel back.  
  
To her dismay, there wasn't anywhere close to park, so she had to practically creep the car along the street, looking for a place to park. Then, they got out of the car, with Angel giving what she could only describe as a warning growl to it. Was he trying to threaten the car into staying put? Into remaining obedient and peaceful? She was still trying to restrain her smile as he turned back to her, offering her an arm for support. He just seemed so protective, so… Well, she rather enjoyed having her very own guardian Angel.  
  
Willow sighed as her muscles sent twinges of protest at the movement. Was it from the drive, all the walking yesterday, or simply the effects of her injury? Perhaps it didn't really matter why she ached, as long as she was careful. But it did mean that her trip into Willie's was slower than she'd like.  
  
The assorted patrons turned and stared as they walked in. Demons and humans, or at least, people that might be humans, were seated in booths, and along the bar. Willie himself was behind that bar, currently handing a bottle of beer to a green man with what looked like stag's antlers, traces of slime coating the antlers, dribbled onto the shoulders and back of his jacket. Something about them seemed to be making people slightly nervous.  
  
Willow tried to ignore the way everyone was staring, and made her way towards the bar, attempting to look more confident, to hide any trace of her limping or pain. This wasn't the place for any hint of weakness. "Hello, Willie. I think that I'd like to purchase some more blood from you."  
  
He looked at her, his eyes shifting nervously from her to Angel and back again. "Ahh…. Red…. Your vamp there… umm…"  
  
Angel growled at him, the sound unquestionably threatening.  
  
"He's a little bit on edge after everything. I don't think now is the time to argue with me." Willow tried not to smile at the nearly panicked expression on the bartender's face.  
  
"On edge? Your vampire reeks of Hell." The rough voice came from a figure entirely enveloped by dark robes. He could have been human, or vampire, or one of a dozen types of demon. "He looks to have gone feral… a rather extreme form of watchdog for you, lady witch."  
  
"But as long as nobody does anything threatening, he should be alright." Willow offered a small smile towards the robed figure, before looking towards Willie again. "And as long as he doesn't get too hungry."  
  
Willie practically ran to get a second cooler of blood bags. The fear was rolling from him so thickly that Willow could almost taste it, and Angel watched him with this little almost smile and a gleam in his eyes… Did he think that Willie looked like a potential meal, or was he amused by the man's scurrying fear? That was probably something else that didn't really matter.  
  
The place was unsettlingly quiet as she simply handed some money over to Willie, and turned to leave the building. Angel followed, carrying the cooler and watching everybody as if they were a potential danger, a possible threat. Nobody inside made anything that might be interpreted as a threatening movement. Maybe all the fear wasn't coming from Willie…  
  
She'd just opened the door to the back of the car, allowing Angel to slide the cooler onto the seat. Something seemed… well, she couldn't put it into words, but Willow was feeling uneasy. That uneasiness was the only warning that she had before something slammed into her back, the impact causing her to connect to the door painfully. She gasped, her back flaring with pain.  
  
Angel roared, leaping at the thing that had tackled her, lifting it into the air and flinging it away, the flailing shape bouncing off of another car before landing with a crunch on the sidewalk. There was a second shape, and Angel began hitting it, apparently intent on pounding it into a smear for the attack on Willow.   
  
Carefully, Willow used the car to pull herself back to her feet. "Angel? I think it's dead now. You can leave it be. We can go back home now."  
  
With a final snort, Angel dropped the now bloody and beaten demon to the sidewalk. It might have been dead, it was hard to say. He licked at the back of one blood splashed hand, making a small face at the flavor. Apparently, the demon blood didn't taste very good.  
  
He looked at Willow, apparently worried about her safety, and stood protectively as she slowly got into the car, her teeth gritted as her back throbbed. Only then would he get back into the car, one hand remaining on the door the entire slow trip back to the mansion.  
  
He insisted on carrying her from the garage to the bedroom, laying her on the mattress and tucking the blanket over her with a worried expression. Only then did he go back to bring in the blood. Willow simply sighed, part of her wanting to protest at his over-protectiveness, but another part just enjoying it. And her back did hurt again, probably turning purple and blue already. She decided not to worry about it for now, and closed her eyes, trying to rest for a while.  
  
Eventually, Angel came into the room, the door closing most of the way behind him. The mattress shifted slightly as he curled behind her, his arm wrapping over her side as he snuggled under the blanket. His presence seemed soothing and comfortable. She was smiling as she drifted to sleep.  
  
End part 3.  
  
With Angel's protection and protective company, Willow was able to feel safe while she regained her strength. Both the magic that she'd expended in bringing Angel back, or at least enough magic that she didn't feel oddly hollow inside, and a more physical recovery.  
  
That didn't mean that everything was simple, or harmless, or that she just woke up better. No, when Willow woke up, her back was a stiff mass of bruises and aches, and she shuffled slowly the few times that she moved away from a soft surface to lay flat on. But she didn't have the same feeling of horrible vulnerability, or a feeling of being all alone either. She had food, and a wonderful hot shower that felt wonderful for a while, before the heat and pressure got to be a little too much and she staggered back out.  
  
Angel was looking much better, less thin, less of that almost painfully wary and nervous, although he was still very alert. He was also starting to do some exercises, slow, graceful movements that Willow would watch, smiling softly. He looked almost calm, and very graceful. Angel had become the new constant in her life.  
  
That was almost enough to make up for all the pain and disappointment. For circumstances that had made Oz leave, although she wished him good luck with the band. For Xander's betrayal, telling Buffy those words instead of about the ritual. Sometimes, she tried to figure out what might have happened if he'd told Buffy, told her about the ritual like she'd asked him to do. Would Buffy have held back? Would Angelus have killed the Slayer? Would Buffy have killed Angelus for the extent of the things that had happened? Well, probably not, Buffy hadn't been able to bring herself to do that before Acathala, why on that night? Would Buffy have been able to find some other way to close the portal besides sending Angel to hell? Would Buffy have been angry about the restoration ritual?  
  
She didn't know, couldn't know. Buffy was gone, hadn't been seen by anyone since she'd gone to face Angelus and stop Acathala. Giles was searching for her, or maybe he'd come back from his journey to Chicago... Willow wasn't quite certain. Buffy had to be somewhere, but that somewhere wasn't here.  
  
As for Xander… she was still trying to figure out what to do, how to react to the whole thing. To his deception. Granted, that might have kept the world from being sucked into hell, and granted that he'd never liked Angel… But to know that he'd lied, that he'd put those words in her mouth… It hurt. It hurt and made her question if Xander might have lied about anything else.   
  
That lie, or more accurately, the fact that she'd found out about the lie would change things. Change the way that she viewed Xander, the way she reacted to his words. But… but what else? Would he still be her friend? Would he even want to be her friend when he found out that she'd brought Angel back? How would she manage if he didn't want to be her friend anymore?  
  
There was a soft rumble, and Angel touched her shoulder, as if trying to figure out why she was upset. Or offering a measure of comfort to her. His fingers made a small rubbing motion, brushing over her shoulder and upper arm. The touch felt soothing and welcome.  
  
Willow put her hand over his, smiling at him. "Thanks, Angel."  
  
She wasn't alone, not really. And maybe things would get better. Maybe she could spend more time with Amy after she got back from the summer with her dad. They could watch movies, and eat brownies, and maybe practice a little magic? Xander… well, either he would still be her friend or not, but she was going to let him have the option, even if she didn't think that she could trust him quite as much as she used to. Giles… well, that might depend on how much time he spent looking for Buffy or a definite sign of a new Slayer.  
  
Angel was here for her. Angel wanted to keep her safe. That would help with a few things right there, at least from the safety perspective. He wasn't really up to much in the way of conversation yet, but he'd get better, right?  
  
And she would help him. Willow wouldn't desert Angel, not when he needed help. She wouldn't abandon a friend in need, that was part of what had got her to try the restoration ritual to begin with. Of course, she might have been partly worried about Buffy, and partly fearing for her life, but… The fact remained that she had been trying to help. And her efforts to get him back from Hell had been… well, it had been after Dru had let her know what had happened, but she wouldn't have wanted anyone to stay there.  
  
Angel would be good for her, and hopefully, she would be good for him as well. They could help each other get through this difficult time. Although, maybe it was a bit harder on Angel than it was for Willow… She just had injuries, and loneliness. He'd been to hell and back, literally. But they weren't alone any more.  
  
  
  
End Guardian Angel 2: Road to Recovery 


	3. First Steps

Guardian Angels 3: First Steps  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main characters: Angel, Willow, heading towards W/A  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any characters or concepts from the series Buffy the vampire Slayer  
  
distribution: Bite Me, NHA, WLS/Will-Angel, WWW, Paula - anyone else ask. If you have permission for the earlier Guardian Angels, you may have this one.  
  
note: Guardian Angels is set the summer after season 2, and has now gone firmly into AU territory.  
  
  
  
  
  
Willow felt her muscles protesting the idea of moving. She got out of the bed anyhow, smiling slightly at the way Angel had been curled beside her. It made her feel oddly safe, far more so than she really should about a half starved and still weak vampire curled up with her, his head remarkably close to her neck. Very little of this really made sense to her.  
  
But she had to get up, and she was craving a bath. And surely a soak in the hot water would help her feel better, less stiff and sore, more like a human being instead of... well, aching muscles. But it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been before, not as bad as right after she'd brought Angel back. She was recuperating, finally. Okay, the injuries from the bookshelves were taking a while, but her magical reserves were... well, she didn't feel like she'd gone into the negatives anymore. Maybe just about breaking even, but that was still progress.  
  
There was a faint noise, and then a little bit of a draft. It seemed cold in the warm humidity of the bathroom, and she squeaked, ducking downwards into bubbles and hot water. There was an odd noise, like a rusty chuckle, and the door shut again. That... had Angel been checking on her? And... how much had he seen?  
  
Willow was certain that she was entirely crimson, and that it wasn't just from her bathwater anymore. If Angel had just seen her naked… and if he had, why was he laughing? Maybe she didn't have quite as much as Buffy, but she didn't think there was anything worth laughing about. Or had he been laughing at the bubbles?  
  
Maybe she should just focus on the part where he'd actually laughed, actually made a noise other than a growl or rumble. Wasn't laughter a step in the right direction, towards using actual words and coherent speech? Yes, and she should be worrying more about Angel's recovery than the fact that she would be embarrassed about him seeing her naked. Yes, she'd seen him naked when he'd first arrived, but it had hardly been his most flattering moments. And she was rambling in her own mind now…  
  
Eventually, Willow climbed out of the bathtub, allowing the now tepid water and the remnant film of bubbles to drain away. She put on the few bits of clothing that she'd remembered to bring in, and left the bathroom, the floor feeling cold to her bare feet, and a towel wrapped around her hair. She felt more herself again, although hardly at top form. It was time to begin planning what to do next. Not just about Angel, but about her life, about how to deal with Xander knowing that he'd lied to Buffy.  
  
Being nearly unconscious from the pain and exertion of a major spell-casting was definitely easier.  
  
But this was her life, and she couldn't just avoid dealing with the tough things in it. If she just backed away from everything, she'd be… Well, she'd be wall-flower, door-mat person again. The girl that nobody liked and everybody used for homework and tutoring because she was such a pushover. She didn't want to be that girl anymore. The down side was that meant that she couldn't hide from things anymore, couldn't avoid dealing with her problems.  
  
At least she didn't have to do this alone. Oz would support her, even if it was from a bit farther away than she'd expected. She had Angel, even if he wasn't quite back to himself yet. Although a part of her was certain that having Angel with her would cause a few more problems, mainly screaming fits from Xander, and maybe frosty disapproval from Giles… Giles would still be reacting to Angelus, and the murder of Jenny Calender. That still stung for her, and she hadn't been as close as Giles had been.  
  
Would she have even considered trying to bring Angel back if it hadn't been for those dreams that Drusilla had projected? Would she have thought of Angel, or merely rejoiced in Angelus being gone? And where was Buffy in all of this mess? Where had the Slayer gone? If she'd been killed, her body would have been found, wouldn't it? Didn't that have to mean that Buffy was alive, and just… gone away?  
  
She felt something hot in her eyes, and her vision went blurry. Willow sniffled, trying to slow the tears that she knew would fall yet again as she considered Buffy's disappearance. Buffy, strong, confident Buffy, the girl who had liked her even though the popular crowd didn't. Buffy was gone. Willow found herself leaning against something nice smelling and solid, and her arms slid around Angel, and she just cried. His arms held her as she shook and sobbed, crying over the end of her childhood.  
  
end part 1.  
  
Willow blinked a bit as she felt herself lifted up, cradled gently in strong arms. Sighing, she leaned her head against Angel's shoulder, allowing him to carry her, slightly curious where they would end up. Slowly, he made his way to the main hall, and placed her gently on the couch. He made a gesture, as if asking her to stay there, and ducked back out of the room, his bare feet nearly silent over the stone floor.  
  
Looking around, Willow realized that the remains of her spell were still sitting there. Lines of salt and herbs lay on the floor, now somewhat in disarray. Melted wax from the four candles had spilled onto the floor. She hadn't even thought about that, hadn't even considered what to do about the clean up. Who had cleaned up after the Soul Ritual? Either of them, actually.  
  
He came back, carrying a plate with cheese, and grapes, apples, and carrots. Angel handed it to her, disappearing for a few moments only to return with a glass of juice for her, a small smile on his face as he handed the drink to her.  
  
Willow smiled back as she sipped the juice, picking up an apple with her other hand. Angel was right, she needed to eat. "Thank you, Angel."  
  
He made this sort of happy noise, not quite a purr, not quite a hum, and touched the towel over her hair, his fingers poking until the towel fell away, dropping behind her on the couch, letting her hair spill in damp tendrils down onto her back and shoulders. Then, Angel smiled, a soft look, full of joy and wonder. Running his fingers over the damp locks, he sighed, sounding almost content as he settled beside her on the couch.  
  
Willow giggled just a little, the amusement almost out of place in the situation. Glancing at her vampire, she smiled, her fingers touching his shoulder lightly, a trace of apple juice left behind to mark her touch. "I guess that means you like my hair, hmm? I suppose it's not that bad, sort of a strange color, doesn't really blend that well, but it's mine. I used to wish that it was darker, more like Cordelia's, or maybe lighter like Amy's… do you remember Amy? Did you even know who Amy was before, when you were helping us? I suppose you probably didn't, you didn't spend a lot of time around the rest of us, just Buffy. We don't know where she went, after, well…. After."  
  
Willow smiled faintly at the way Angel was watching her. He looked content, and he might or might not have understood any of her words, but he seemed content to just listen to the sound of her voice. Maybe hearing her talk would help him remember how to use words for himself? Or maybe he just felt like the place was too quiet, the walls leaning over them, the shadows swirling with secrets and whispers that just about shattered the calm of the quiet. Maybe that was just her own feelings. Either way, he seemed to enjoy hearing her talk, so she did. About hair, and what could be done with it, about school, and stories about Amy, and Jesse and Xander from before things had changed. Stories about summer camp and trips to the beach. She talked for hours, finishing the food and juice, wiping her hands with a napkin, and combing though her hair as she explained the enjoyment of watching Indian satellite channels.  
  
Angel was a great listener. He just watched her, his eyes focused on her lips, with a twinkle in his eyes and a faint smile. Maybe he was trying to remember words, or maybe he was just wondering how she could talk so much and take so few pauses for breath. It just felt good to know that there was someone that would listen to her talk about anything or nothing. And maybe talking about everything to Angel would help her sort a few things out. It certainly didn't seem to be hurting anything.  
  
It only took another two days before she decided that they would need to get more blood for Angel. She was feeling better, enough that she could safely walk short distances without stronger aches, pains, or dizziness. Once again, she hunted down her shoes and the car keys, preparing for the trip to Willie's Alibi, local demon bar and information source.  
  
Angel was frowning, and staring at the keys in her hand. Did he remember them? Remember the previous trip to the bar? He followed her to the car, hissing just a bit at it, as if in warning. Was he trying to assert dominance over the car? Was he worried that it would attack? Or did he just think that it smelled bad? Whatever was going through his mind, Angel settled gingerly in the passenger side, one hand braced against the door as he watched everything.  
  
Willow smiled, patting his hand reassuringly. "It's okay, Angel. The car's safe, it's not a monster. I suppose this means that asking you to fasten your seat belt is out of the question, huh?"   
  
Angel just looked at her, one eyebrow arched. Maybe he did understand her, because the expression was a perfect match for 'You've got to be joking'. He shifted a little, setting further against the seat, raising his knee a bit.  
  
"Right, no seatbelt for the big, scary vampire. Okay. Now, turn on the car, go to Willie's, hope that we don't run into any cops…" Willow glanced over, noting that Angel was still in what they'd always referred to as 'game face', his eyes golden and almost glowing, his brows heavier, and his teeth sharp fangs. "Of course, I could always tell them that I'm trying to go order take out for my pet vampire so that he doesn't try to snack on anyone. I'm sure that would go over well…"  
  
The trip to Willie's was unremarkable. Inside, the demons almost pointedly didn't look at them. Was it some sort of subtle sign of respect? A determined Switzerland neutrality? Some sort of unsubtle shunning insult? Willow just sighed, moving towards the bar, her eyes locked on the now nervous bartender. Angel followed behind her, his eyes scanning the room.  
  
One young looking vampire tried to attack, hissing as he lunged towards her. Willow had barely had time to squeak and stumble backwards before Angel had grabbed the smaller vampire, twisting his head entirely off of the body. There was a small spray of blood and a scattering of ashes fell to the floor. In the resulting silence, Willow walked to the bar, and politely asked Willie for another cooler of blood.  
  
She carefully drove them over to her own house, having come to the conclusion that not only did she need more food, but some additional clothing. She loved the huge bath, but there was only so long that a couple changes of clothing would be tolerable. They had walked into the house, and were halfway to her room before it dawned on Willow that Angel had stopped, and was growling softly as he looked at the living room.  
  
"Angel? What's wrong?" Her whisper couldn't have carried past Angel, and she looked at the living room. Would there be some sort of burglar? Maybe some sort of slime covered demon? But no, it was actually something even more unsettling than that.  
  
Her parents, staring in wide eyed, jaw dropped shock at Angel.  
  
"umm… mom, dad. Hi." Willow felt faint. Maybe if she fainted, just collapsed here on the floor, then she wouldn't have to explain this? Probably not, and just falling down like that left bruises.  
  
"Willow…. I know that we told you that you couldn't have boys in your room, but that's no reason to be bringing home… that's a vampire, isn't he?" Her father's voice was tight, with an odd sound that Willow finally placed as shock.  
  
For a moment, Willow just stood there, wondering if she was really swaying, or if that was just the surprise. Suddenly, Angel was there, his hand at her back, steadying her. He nuzzled at her shoulder, the gesture oddly comforting. Willow leaned against him, feeling like things were off balance. "Yes, Angel's a vampire. I'm a bit curious when you figured out they were real, why you never told me."  
  
"Just… step away from the vampire, and we can explain everything." Her father looked so worried, so afraid. As if he thought that Angel would hurt her.  
  
Willow closed her eyes, uncertain if she wanted to laugh or cry from the revelation. Her parents knew about vampires. "How long have you known? Did you have any idea what sort of place this is? Where you've been making me go to school? How many people have died? It's a bit late for you to worry now, Dad. I'm not in any danger from Angel. He's helping keep me safe, just like he has for the past two years. Ever since Buffy came to Sunnydale."  
  
"What does that Bunny girl have to do with anything?" Her mother's voice was worried and disapproving, although she wasn't quite certain if it was directed at the vampire in the house or the absent Buffy. "Why are you leaning against that vampire?"  
  
Willow sighed, opening her eyes to look at her parents. "Because I'm still a bit wobbly at times. After effects of a bookcase falling on me while the library was attacked last month. You were in Miami at the time. Buffy's something called a Slayer, and I've been helping her."  
  
Her mother just frowned, pulling out a small day-planner and flipping pages. "Why didn't someone… Why didn't someone call to tell us that you were in the hospital?"  
  
Slowly, her father sank back into his chair. "That little blond is a Slayer? But she's so… tiny. Why would you… how could you endanger yourself like that? And that still doesn't explain why you're bringing home a vampire."  
  
"Angel's helping me. How long have you known? How long have you known that this house is in the town that should have kept the old Spanish name? La Boca Del Infierno. Why did you ever move here?" Willow looked at her father, wanting answers, hoping that she wasn't about to uncover yet another lie, another deception.  
  
"La Boca… dead God…" Her father paled, looking horrified. "The mouth of hell? Why would they… Willow, why would the Spanish have given such a terrible name to this place?"  
  
"The Hellmouth. It's in Sunnydale. I take it you didn't know about that part, at least. But about the vampires… How did you know about the vampires?" Willow looked at her father, trying to read him, looking at him as if he were a complete stranger instead of the father that she'd always thought didn't know what went on.  
  
"You know that I grew up in Los Angeles. And I know that you've heard all about my cousin Peter, the good boy tragically cut down too young? I was with him that night. A group of us were out, celebrating… something. I can't even remember why anymore. We were attacked by this group of people. My first thought was that they were some sort of gang, but their faces just… changed. Vampires. One of them killed Peter. We all would have died except for this girl… she attacked them, stabbed them with her wooden sword and they just… collapsed into dust. She said that she was Rowan, the Slayer." He shivered, rubbing his arms with his hands as if the memory left him cold. "Vampires are dangerous, Willow."  
  
"Angel has his soul, dad, he won't hurt me." Willow wondered if this Rowan had anything to do with the fact that she had a tree name, and somehow unsurprised that Los Angeles had vampires. If that was the reason why her parents had moved to a smaller town. "I didn't know that you would even be home."  
  
"Why is he still glaring at us with those yellow eyes?" Her mother looked at Angel, her face filed with worry and fear.  
  
"I'm not sure. He hasn't had his human face on since I brought him back… I think he just needs time. Or he could be worried that you're a threat to me… He doesn't know who you are." Willow sighed, wondering how she could ever manage to explain this to her parents.  
  
"Why would he not know who we are? You've called us mom and dad…." Her mother was pretty observant tonight.  
  
"Because… he had an extended vacation in a horrible place. I think it was Hell. The explanation is long, terribly complicated, and probably wouldn't help. He hasn't had his human face on since he got back, and he hasn't spoken. But he did rip the head off that vampire that tried to attack me earlier." Willow sighed, certain that this would end up becoming a long and awkward conversation.  
  
"How do you now what he did immediately after he got back?" Her mother's voice was worried and suspicious.  
  
Willow closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath and hoping for courage. "Well… I sort of brought him back. That's how I know. He's been really protective of me ever since. Don't look like that, I couldn't just leave him there, he was in hell. How could I leave someone that I know, a friend just smoking and burning in hell and not even try to save him? I couldn't, it would be all sorts of wrong, so I had to try to save him, especially since there were those dreams, and they wouldn't stop until I got him back so I did, and he's been all silent and too thin, but he's getting better. Really."  
  
"Willow, when I told you that it was good to help people, I was thinking of helping people study, or cross the street, or find missing hotels, not pulling vampires out of hell." Her mother looked pale, and abruptly stood up. "I think you look hungry. Let me fix you a decent meal."  
  
"I was hoping that you'd find a nice Jewish boy, not a vampire. But it looks like he's rather protective, and you seem a bit attached… What is he going to do about dinner?" Her father was frowning at Angel. "You would have inherited your mother's stubborn streak."  
  
"We got carry out. From… well, maybe I shouldn't go there right now. It's in the car.  
  
"We can put some blankets up over the windows. I want to hear some of these explanations, young lady. I may not have a choice about you keeping company with this vampire, but I want to understand how, and why." Her father stepped closer, reaching towards her hand slowly. "You're my daughter, and I worry."  
  
She felt herself smiling a little as she took his hand. "Okay. But… can they wait until after we've all had dinner?"  
  
"Of course. If there are vampires and a Slayer, they probably aren't stories to talk about over food anyhow." Her father nodded.  
  
End part 3.  
  
Willow found herself seated at the table, with orders to just sit there and rest. Possibly the fact that Angel was still hovering near her, watching everything with his wary amber eyes was a factor in that request. She just waited, hearing her mother rattling a few things in the kitchen, the door opened and closed, and her father came back inside, carrying the cooler that she'd picked up at Willie's.  
  
"I suppose this is a bit better than the alternative. Just… try to remember that your mother deals poorly with the sight of blood, alright?" He sighed, placing the cooler in the corner, and retreated to the kitchen.  
  
Willow almost expected to wake up from this at any moment. To open her eyes to see the soft sheets of Angel's bed, to feel him half wrapped around her as she rested. Her parents were here, knew about vampires, and wanted to know what was going on with her life. The bizarreness of the whole thing seemed almost too much. She looked over at Angel, and gestured towards the cooler. "You'd best feed now, it might be awkward later."  
  
He studied her face for a few moments, and nodded slightly, making his way over to the cooler. He crouched beside it, quietly feeding from the bags, still listening for any possible trouble. The way he jumped and looked around, a small growl escaping at the clatter of falling pans was almost funny. After a moment, he seemed to settle back down, and finished the bag. Holding a small stack of now emptied bags, he glanced at Willow, as if to ask what should be done with them.  
  
Willow smiled, holding out her hand for the bags. "Let me throw those away?"  
  
Angel moved closer, still holding the bags. Instead of letting her take them, he followed her, blinking a bit at the brighter light in the kitchen. Glancing around, he seemed to be inspecting the kitchen, which he'd seen before. Smiling almost triumphantly, he edged around Willow's mother, dropping the empty bags into the trashcan. Sheila Rosenberg was watching that with wide, nervous eyes, one hand upraised, fingers almost covering her open mouth.  
  
Willow only giggled, amused by Angel's delighted expression. The simple fact that he'd remembered where the trashcan was, and that the empty bags went there was apparently a personal triumph. It was actually sort of cute.  
  
"Most parents worry about their children bringing home stray cats or dogs. Maybe an injured bird or lizard. Not vampires." Her father sighed, leaning against the refrigerator. "Now, all of us to the table, let your mother work."  
  
A short time later Willow found herself sitting at the table for a family dinner. It was an odd feeling. Her parents both had their cups of coffee, clutched to them as if they hoped to gain calm from the warm mugs. Dinner was wonderful, and everyone passed things, being politely calm, almost like something from one of those old television shows with the perfect families. Angel even joined in with the passing of the dishes around the table, and carefully tasted the vegetables, although it really didn't look as if he cared for the flavor.   
  
Finally, everyone had finished their dinner, and the plates had been taken to the sink. Willow's parents fidgeted a little, and kept glancing at Angel and glancing away. "I think that it's time for an explanation of everything now, Willow."  
  
Willow took a deep breath, exhaling slowly in an effort to calm herself. This was going to be a long night. Angel placed his hand on her back, his touch helping her settle her nerves. With a shaky smile, she began. "It all started when Buffy Summers moved to Sunnydale…"  
  
End part 4.  
  
Willow found herself yawning, and held up a blanket as her father secured it over the window of her room. He really wasn't happy about this, but it had been made abundantly clear that Willow wouldn't abandon Angel, and he didn't really seem willing to leave her. He'd been muttering things under his breath about how he should have just moved to New York, or maybe a little island somewhere, then he'd just have to worry about diseases instead of his daughter bringing home a vampire.   
  
"I'll be just fine, dad. Angel won't hurt me, and nothing's… well, no more bad things will happen tonight. I refuse. I don't have the energy to deal with anything else." Willow sighed, her eyes feeling itchy and tired.  
  
It was only as her dad left the room that Willow realized the cooler of blood had been brought into her room at some point. Was that so that if Angel got hungry, she wouldn't be the snack, to get it out of the dining room, or some other reason entirely? Willow sighed, thinking that she had too many thoughts.  
  
Soon, she was on the bed, Angel curled up beside her. The closeness was comforting, and she smiled gently into the darkness of her room. Life certainly went in interesting directions. Her parents had known about vampires. Her dad had met another Slayer. And now, they knew how she helped Buffy, and agreed that it was important, even if they didn't like her being in danger. She'd never have expected any of that.  
  
Angel's hand was stroking her hair, and there was a soft noise from him. After a few moments, Willow realized that he was humming something. Some sort of song, rather soothing, although she didn't recognize it at all. Willow smiled, letting the crooning wash over her, feeling herself relax as she slipped into sleep.  
  
"How is my Angel-Daddy doing, Willow tree?"  
  
Drusilla's lilting voice made Willow's eyes snap open. She carefully moved out from under Angel's arm, and looked around. Her bed sat along the wall, but instead of the doorway, there was just an expanse of brilliant stars in a cloudless night sky. There was no moon, no buildings or trees. Clearly, she was dreaming again.  
  
"Hello again, Drusilla. Angel is getting stronger, and he's not nearly so thin now. He's not talking yet, but I think he's starting to understand more." She offered a slightly nervous smile. Drusilla was dangerous, and had been her enemy… No, that wasn't quite right. Drusilla had been Buffy's enemy, and Kendra's, but had never really worried about Willow at all. This dream wasn't to check on Willow, it was to check on Angel.  
  
"He looks so peaceful curled up on your bed." Drusilla looked at him, sitting beside Willow. One hand brushed over the dream Angel's hair. "But he still has all of his clothing on."  
  
Willow made the discovery that it was indeed possible to blush in a dream. "errrr…. Yes, he does have clothing on. And it's probably better, since my parents are here."  
  
"You don't think they would agree that he looks handsome? Still a little thinner than he should, but he is a handsome angel." She was looking at him, her fingers running over his face slowly, as if seeking reassurance of his safety.  
  
"well, umm… it's not that he isn't handsome." Willow was still blushing, wondering if she would be able to explain this to Drusilla, or anyone else, for that matter. "But I'm their little girl, and they don't think I should have boys in my room."  
  
Drusilla giggled, fingers moving to rest in the hollow of her throat. "The would fear that my Angel-Daddy would endanger your virtue? He is so good at de-virtuing maidens… You should let him, it would be most delightful."  
  
Willow felt herself turning entirely crimson from embarrassment, and from the flood of images that Drusilla's words caused. "errrr… umm… my. Now, we aren't… he's… I don't think he sees me like that."  
  
"He will. Just as soon as he's all better. You're a pretty maid, Willow tree. Someone will see you, want to take away the maidenly virtue. Angel has always had an eye for pretty maids…" She was smiling again, looking almost wistfully at the image of Angel. "Help him to be strong again. There is danger in your home. Growing inside, waiting for the skin to be just a little too tight, the right last meal… Nasty big snake hiding in the walls, in the buildings. Don't let him charm you, Willow tree, he would see Daddy as a threat. I don't want the snake to eat up my Angel-Daddy."  
  
Looking at Drusilla, Willow realized that the woman was truly worried. "Was this hidden snake here when you and Spike were in town?"  
  
"Oh yes, and so many plans whispering about… big nasty plans, hungry plans. But we didn't alter them, nothing that my Spikey and I did would have altered his plans… Just send the little minions to hush all the screaming, and everyone will close their eyes." Dru closed her eyes, swaying a little on the edge of the bed. "Look at all the little lambs, just lining up for the slaughter… Nasty snake. He's going to kill all the little lambs, and then there shall be no more wool."  
  
Willow blinked, feeling as if a cold wind had touched her, leeching the warmth from her body. Something had Drusilla frightened, and it sounded like it was some big evil menace, something hidden, and patient. That always made things worse, when the baddie had a plan. But the way that she'd put it… lambs to the slaughter, and no more wool… it sounded big, and important. Somehow, they would have to stop this snake and his plan. "I can't stop something like that alone."  
  
"Who was the man with the answers? Daddy asked him how to wake up the stone, make him share his angry words, shouting song… ugly song. We didn't kill him… maybe he can give you answers." Dru looked at Willow, her eyes almost clear.  
  
"Yes, I will have to talk to him. But… he's been looking for Buffy." Willow sighed, trying to figure out a way to explain this to Giles. He wouldn't be happy.  
  
Dru hissed, her features shifting. "Nasty Slayer… made my Angel-Daddy go away, made my Daddy all mad. Too busy stalking her, leaving presents to spend time with us… leave her in the dirty shadows."  
  
"Umm… sorry I brought her up." Willow blinked, feeling very small and fragile. Could she be injured in this dream place? It wasn't a question that she wanted to test.  
  
"Just keep my Angel-Daddy safe. That's what's important, after all." Dru's voice was steady, even as her image faded away, becoming translucent, then vanishing.  
  
Willow woke up, blinking. Drusilla had wanted to check on Angel again, and had given her a warning. Something big… a snake in the walls? Hiding in a skin until it was too tight? Could that mean some sort of shape-shifter, or a transformation? She'd said it would eat the people… well, kill them at least. Somehow, she would have to talk to Giles about it. Somehow, she'd have to explain the whole mess to him. At least there was a potential disaster that they would have to solve, so he couldn't just be so disgusted that he ignored her, could he?  
  
It seemed like summer break was over, assuming that it had actually ever started. School might still be out, but the downtime from Slaying and saving the world was over. Not that she'd ever really done much with the Slaying part of things, but still, the idea held. Trouble was back.  
  
End part 5.  
  
End Guardian Angels 3: First Steps 


	4. Interlude: Red Woman, Yellow Woman

author: Lucinda  
  
main character: Angel, mention of Willow & Buffy  
  
disclaimer: All characters from the series Buffy the Vampire Slayer were created by Joss Whedon, and I have no legal rights to them.  
  
distribution: if you have the earlier Guardian Angels, yes. Otherwise please ask first.  
  
notes: AU in the summer after Becoming (season 2 finale)  
  
thank you especially to Gabrielle.  
  
* * *  
  
Once, this place had been his home. The evidence was all around, and yet it still seemed so hard to believe. His scent was here, as well as other scents that felt right, like he had known them, as if they'd belonged here, of a man and a woman that he could almost see in his mind. There was plentiful clothing, all of it fitting him perfectly. A place where there were no sharp rocks to avoid, no vicious beasts hiding in the bedding or under the ground. A place where there were soft places to sleep, and he could be clean again.  
  
It was almost too perfect.  
  
But the Red Woman had brought him here, had saved him from the Bad Place. She had magic in her, powerful magic that had reached into his very being and pulled him out, brought him here to safety. She looked at him, and had known who he was, had wanted to help him. Red Woman had risked herself by taxing her magic to the last slivers to help him, leaving herself weakened and vulnerable before him. It was entirely baffling and humbling to contemplate.  
  
He wanted to find the words to ask her about that. To ask what his name had been, how she had known him. To ask why someone like her would know him, would worry so much about a blood drinker that she would risk so much to bring him here. To ask who or what had dared to hurt her, to cause the injuries that he could sense in her body, the bruises that he'd seen. But after so many years in the Bad Place, he had lost the words, keeping only fragments of memory and dreams, some of them good, and others bad.   
  
He dreamed, and in the dreams there were three women who kept appearing over and over again. One was the Red Woman, clothed in soft things, smelling like fruit and flowers. There was Doll-Keeper, a woman with dark hair and dark eyes, always watching him and holding a delicate looking girl-doll. And there was the Yellow Woman, always holding weapons, always ready to fight.  
  
Yellow Woman had hurt him, had sent him to the Bad Place. He didn't know why, but there must have been a reason. He'd had fragments of images of fighting beside Yellow Woman, helping her to kill demons and other blood drinkers, but there was also the memory of her sword piercing him, sending him away to the Bad Place, where he'd suffered for so very long.  
  
Maybe the Red woman would know what had happened? Red Woman had saved him, had brought him food, even when she was weakened by her injuries and spells. None of the Magi in the Bad Place would have done that for a blood drinker, not even for one of their favored assassins, which he'd never been. He hadn't been cooperative for them, for reasons that he couldn't put into words anymore... He hadn't liked what they'd wanted. Hadn't liked the way the Magi and the Greater Demons had fought and squabbled, clawing and ripping at each other for more power and status. Hadn't liked the way so many of them had smiled as their favored demon and blood drinker underlings had ripped bleeders to pieces in the arenas. Something whispered that Yellow Woman would have fought well in the arenas.  
  
But Red Woman didn't do that. She didn't seem to be fighting with anyone, although she was in some danger even here. She'd been attacked when they'd gone to a place where a frightened bleeder had given them more of the funny little pouches filled with blood. It still seemed so odd and pleasant to be able to take blood from a little pouch instead of from a living creature or a fresh corpse. There had been no little pouches of blood in the Bad Place, let alone places where they could be given by a frightened - was the frightened bleeder a merchant of some sort?  
  
He'd been puzzled by the place, by a lot of things about this town. There were no spells embedded in the buildings, none of the wardings that he'd learned so painfully to detect. But there had been many lesser demons there, and he'd seen the way they had looked at the Red Woman, as if considering if she was predator or prey. Her magic had been depleted, and with her injuries... There had been some who felt her weakened enough to attack. He'd stopped them, for the first time having no internal argument about killing another thinking creature.  
  
And it seemed that Red Woman had accepted his services, had been willing to keep him, to claim him as her own. She'd taken him with her to another little dwelling place, where there were other bleeders, though the man had carried the faint whisper of magic. They had been Red Woman's parents, and they had looked at him with dismay. Obviously, they felt that she could have a better protector than him. But she had kept him, had fed him more of those little pouches, so many that he was not hungry at all. He was certain that this place didn't have as much distinction between those who had the power – the Magi, and those who were just flesh and blood, the bleeders, food for whatever demons were in favor at the time. They didn't call them 'bleeders' either… no, they were mortals. Humans.  
  
She even let him sleep in the same place as her, to keep her safe from any attacker, to curl near her warmth and let it seep into his cool body. He didn't dream of the Yellow Woman when he curled near Red Woman. Instead, he dreamed of the fragments of his past, or of coupling with the Red Woman. Images of his hands sliding over her soft flesh, wondering if her eyes would grow dark as he brought her pleasure, imagining sliding into her warm depths. It almost made him glad that he couldn't speak of his dreams - surely she would be angered? But perhaps not... There had been Magi in the Bad Place who took blood drinkers or demons into their beds, though the demons were often more for power than pleasure.  
  
He thought that perhaps the Yellow Woman had been his lover, before. Had that been why she'd sent him away? Had he not pleased her in bed? No, some old confidence insisted that it was not that that had caused her to send him away, to pierce him with her sword. He was fairly certain that he was a very skilled and pleasurable bed partner. There were answers in his past, the times that he'd pushed back into the depths of his mind. The things that had hurt too much to remember. The Bad Place was dangerous, and he had known that he couldn't be distracted by remembering a place where it was safe for mortals to walk around, a place where there were alternating periods of light and dark - night and day. Dwelling on those memories wouldn't have been safe, and that inattentiveness could have gotten him killed, either in the arenas of torment and combat or in the wilder lands that he'd escaped to.  
  
But he wasn't there anymore. She'd brought him here, to this place again, where everything was different. This place had a sun, and it would hurt him, but there were fewer demons in the Dale of the Sun. Fewer demons and many more mortals. When he was stronger, more confident, it would be very easy to go out, to find a mortal to drink from if the pouches were gone... But. But something about that troubled him, a fuzzy insistence that such things caused problems. There were so many, surely it wasn't a question of food shortages, as there had been for the blood drinkers in the Bad Place? Somehow, the Yellow Woman was connected to this in his mind, and when he imagined drinking from one of the foolish, unaware mortals that seemed to have no idea of the dangers that lurked just beyond their sight, he saw the Yellow Woman, her hand holding a sharp stake, with hard, angry eyes.  
  
No, it would be best not to start drinking from the mortals wandering around, even if they deserved it for being so stupid, so unaware of the dangers. Habits worn in through his years of hiding made him wonder – what would he feed on if not the mortals? Would there be enough small animals? Would there be more of the pouches? It would be best if he kept drinking from the little pouches that the Red Woman had given him, at least until he remembered or relearned the rules of this place.  
  
Slowly, he ran his fingers over the smooth glass window that kept the night and all that moved in it separate from the house, seeing the sparkles of light - stars. He had been here before, was here again, and he would survive here. Compared to the pits of torment, or hiding in the wilder lands from the patrols and the feral demons, this place would be easy. Few of the demons in this place were as powerful as the things that he'd hidden from, once he'd regained his strength by regular feeding, he would be easily able to keep the Red Woman safe from anything out there.  
  
He could almost imagine the dark eyed woman looking down at him from the stars, a man beside her with brown - no, nearly white hair, his arm wrapped around him. Something had made her sad, but she was certain that the Red Woman would fix it.  
  
Life here was much better. He heard a sound behind him, saw a flicker of pale and red in the glass. Red Woman was there, still moving slowly from the bruises all over her back. He could feel the small smile form as she looked at him.  
  
Red Woman spoke, soft sounds that he could almost understand, that he knew he'd understood before, and made a little motion, asking him to go with her. It was a relief that her expressions and gestures enabled him to understand what she wanted.  
  
He followed her into a room, where she sat on the soft leather couch, motioning for him to sit near her, and she lifted a book. He felt himself tense, wondering what spell the tome might contain, but there was no feeling of power in it. She opened it, and there were bright pictures with writing underneath. Words and pictures of things here, and she began to read the words. It was obviously an effort to help him remember the ways of speaking here, to remember the words and creatures and objects.  
  
Her efforts gave him a strangely soft and warm feeling inside. Red Woman wanted to help him... He smiled, and dared to move, first sitting on the couch beside her. As she merely smiled and continued to read, he slowly shifted more, until his head was resting on her leg, and he stretched out along the couch. He felt good, full and safe and welcomed at her side.  
  
  
  
end Interlude: Red Woman, Yellow Woman. 


	5. Truth Hurts

Guardian Angels 4: Truth Hurts

author: Lucinda

rating: pg13

main characters: Angel, Willow, heading towards W/A

disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any characters or concepts from the series Buffy the vampire Slayer

distribution: Bite Me, NHA, WLS/Will-Angel, WWW, Paula - anyone else ask. If you have permission for the earlier Guardian Angels, you may have this one.

note: Guardian Angels is set the summer after season 2, and has now gone firmly into AU territory.

thanks to Gabrielle for some last minute advice - I hope things feel more emotional now

Willow woke up slowly, feeling warm and safe under the covers, even the smell was right. She was safe in her very own room, with Angel snuggled next to her… Oh, did she smell pancakes?

Hopeful, Willow slipped out of the bed, her mind already debating what clothing would be quick to put on and how dressed did she absolutely have to be. Her back twinged, the bruises still unhappy with her. They were fading, but there was still soreness near the spine. Willow wasn't certain if it was still from the book case or from that demon throwing her into the car, but she felt like it was taking forever to heal.

Glancing over, she smiled at the still-sleeping form of Angel. He looked so peaceful that she wasn't certain she should wake him up. Instead, she pulled on a pair of jeans, a sort of orangy brown color. After a bit of searching, she found a plain white shirt and pulled it on. The socks could wait, it wasn't as if they'd be needed to eat breakfast, after all.

Mostly dressed, she sat down on the edge of the bed, hairbrush in hand. "Angel? I'm going to go down for breakfast."

One eye opened, and he made a gesture, as if lifting something to his lips.

"Yes, I'm going to go eat some food. You can come down later if you'd like, just be sure to feed up here first." Willow found herself smiling at him. Her parents hadn't been thrilled to discover that she had Angel, and they were even less certain how to describe what was going on than she was. But they knew that he went with her, that he wanted her to be safe, and that he apparently had no plans to hurt her.

Willow reached out, touching a bit of his hair that was sticking up at a strange angle, and smiled. Honestly, she wasn't certain where things were going between them either. With a yawn, she stood up and started to follow the scent of pancakes.

"Morning. Pancakes? Is there juice?" She called out, certain that she smelled pancakes, hoping that she wasn't just having some sort of olfactory hallucination. Did people even have such things?

"Good morning, Willow." Her mother called out from the kitchen. "Can you set the table for breakfast?"

"Sure." Willow nodded, and made her way to the cabinet that held the plates. Three plates, silverware… best make a separate trip for the glasses. "Coffee mugs too, or just juice?"

"Both, dear. You know how cranky your father gets if he doesn't have his coffee." Her mother sounded like she was in a good mood this morning.

"Don't exaggerate, Sheila." Her father's voice still sounded sleepy. "Angel's still asleep?"

"Pretty much. He knows that I came down for pancakes." Willow made a half shrug. Placing the plates on the table, she ducked into the kitchen to collect the carton of orange juice and the bottle of maple syrup.

"Mmmm." Her father came to the table, and settled in his favorite chair. "What are you planning with him anyhow? I know, you've explained that he's been helpful. But, honey, you can't just keep a vampire as a pet. Or whatever you want to call him."

"I'm not trying to keep Angel as a pet." Willow's face felt warm as images of things that she didn't ever want her parents to know that she'd even heard of flickered through her head. Leather, collars, corsets, submissive Angel kneeling beside her feet… "I'm helping him get better. And helping Angel is keeping me from dwelling on everything else, like my injury, like Oz leaving for Los Angeles, like Buffy being gone."

The phone rang, and Willow was aware of her mother answering it in the kitchen. She tried to ignore that, instead bringing over three glasses and three coffee mugs and placing them at the table. Then, she heard her mother mention her name.

"Willow, why is the school librarian trying to talk to you? This isn't a matter of an overdue book, is it?" Her mother's question sounded as if she was fighting to stay calm.

"It's Giles? I thought… No, Mom, it isn't about a library book." Willow wondered what was prompting the call. "Remember, he's Buffy's Watcher."

"Oh dear." Sheila sighed, and apparently returned her attention to the phone, and spoke for a few more moments, her words too low for Willow to make out clearly.

"He said that there were a few things that he needed to talk about, and he'll be here in a half hour." She carried in a platter of pancakes, placing them on the table. "He made this odd sputtering noise, and I don't think that he'd expected us to be here."

"Giles is coming over?" Willow felt nervous, and speared a pancake with her fork. She had the feeling that things were about to get more complicated. "Maybe I'd better try to eat quickly."

End part 1.

Willow was just trying to mop up the last traces of syrup with her third pancake when there was a knock at the door. She glanced up, wondering how she'd explain everything to Giles, wondering if he'd found Buffy, wondering if there was some new crisis. She had too many thoughts.

"You finish your juice. I'll get the door." Her father glanced at her, and shook his head. "Don't drink too much coffee, it'll stunt your growth."

Willow smiled at him, and dutifully sipped at her orange juice. It probably was better for her than the coffee anyhow. Had he found something about Buffy? Had he noticed that… oh, had she actually remembered to take back those books on conjuring and summoning that she'd borrowed when she was trying to find a way to bring Angel back? Guiltily, she remembered that they were still sitting in a stack by her computer.

Finally, she swallowed the last of her pancake, and drank the last sip of juice. Willow stood up, part of her wanting to face Giles and find out, and part of her afraid. The nervous part won, and she took the plate and juice glass into the kitchen as a delaying tactic. She refilled her coffee cup and started towards the living room, hoping that it would keep her hands from shaking. Somehow, she couldn't convince herself that Giles would be happy that Angel was back, and that she was effectively hiding him. But did it really count as hiding if nobody had been looking?

He was in the living room, with her father. Currently, Giles was attempting to explain that he'd been trying to contact her as part of a study effort, and it wasn't going over very well. For a moment, she wondered if it would be cruel to let him flounder on. "Morning, Giles."

"Ah, Willow." His eyes lit up, and it was almost as if he viewed her arrival as a rescue from an awkward conversation. "I was just explaining to your father…"

"Making bad excuses, he means." Her dad grumbled, settling himself into his chair. "Willow told us that you're a Watcher, and that her friend Buffy is the Slayer. I'd hoped that there wouldn't be any problems with vampires in a small town like this, but it seems that we were wrong about that."

"err…" Giles sort of froze, and slowly leaned back, his hands folding and unfolding over his knee. "She mentioned that?"

"And that the town is built on something called a Hellmouth." Shaking his head, her father sighed. "It explained quite a few things about the place, actually."

"I must admit that I'm a bit surprised that Willow would talk about something like that. The existence of the Slayer…" Giles paused, as if he was trying to sort out the right words for what he wanted to say.

"Willow didn't tell us about the existence of the Slayer, only that her friend Buffy was one. Sheila and I already knew about vampires and Slayers, and there was a bit of a vampire scare the other night, and then we learned that Willow knew." Sipping at his coffee, her father added. "I'd met a Slayer before. She save our lives, back before Willow was born."

"You didn't say…" Willow began, moving in and carefully sitting on the end of the couch. "Is that why I have a tree name? Because she had a tree name?"

Chuckling, he nodded. "Yes. We were saved by a Slayer named Rowan; so we named you for another tree. At the time, we wanted to do something, not too obvious, but in thanks."

"Giles, did you find Buffy yet?" Willow asked, holding her coffee before her, softly blowing at the wisps of fragrant steam that rose from the cup.

"No. I didn't find Buffy. Nor did I find… Willow, do you know what happened to the… To the things for the ritual that was attempted in the library?" He looked uncomfortable.

"Yes." Willow wasn't quite certain why he was asking about the things for the Restoration ritual. "Oz and Cordelia brought them to the hospital, so I could try a second attempt."

"A second attempt? But the risk involved, the chance of exhaustion... And you were already injured." He sort of froze, and looked at her, a little line forming between his eyebrows. Carefully, he placed his hands over his knee, fingers laced together. "Did anyone else know about this effort?"

Looking at him she almost whispered the words. "I asked Xander to tell Buffy that I was trying the ritual again."

For a long moment, the room was silent.

"Willow… a ritual like that is very dangerous. You could have been hurt attempting it, especially injured." He slowly raised one hand, adjusting his glasses slightly, and closed his eyes. "Did anything happen?"

"At the time, I didn't know." Willow sipped at her coffee, not quite willing to look Giles in the eyes. She couldn't keep it to herself about Angel, she just knew that she couldn't. "But it wasn't the last magic that I tried."

"What did you do?" Giles sounded like he wasn't certain if he wanted to be worried or angry.

Willow took a breath, and tried to speak. It took two efforts before the whisper emerged. "I brought Angel back."

Giles made a noise, a sort of strangled gasping cough. It was probably intended as some sort of objection or protest.

"I had to!" Willow insisted. "There were all these strange dreams, and I couldn't figure them out, and they weren't letting me rest, and Drusilla was in them, and…"

"Breathe, Willow." Her father said, his own mug shaking slightly in his hand.

"Right." Willow tried to calm herself. Her parents wouldn't abandon her. Angel wouldn't abandon her. Oz was in LA, but he would understand, she hoped. "Drusilla was doing something to make contact with me through my dreams. She wanted me to bring her Daddy back from the place of fire and ashes. There was a vision, and the ritual worked, it worked, and then Buffy… she told him to close his eyes, and then… with the sword… and… I couldn't leave him there, I just couldn't. I couldn't leave someone that I knew to just burn in hell."

"If you tried to bring him back…" Giles stopped, and made a visible effort to try to calm himself. "The whole idea is dangerous. You shouldn't even consider it. Apart from the difficulties of the spell, the Restoration might not have worked, and then, we'd be even worse off than before."

Willow glanced up, and saw Angel standing in the doorway beyond Giles. She managed a faint smile. "Too late, Giles."

Angel walked into the room, a sideways glance at the closed drapes, and settled himself to sit on the floor beside Willow. He was looking at Giles with a calm, slightly curious expression, as if he was trying to figure out how to react to the strange man.

Giles stood up, his jaw dropping open as he pointed at Angel. For a few moments, he stood there, remarkably fishlike. "But…!"

"He's not going to hurt Willow." Her father's voice was calm. "You might as well sit back down."

Willow reached out, letting one hand settle onto Angel's shoulder. Her fingers moved in a slow back and forth pattern, almost a caress. "I think it's okay, Angel. Try to calm down?"

He leaned into her touch, and his eyes half closed, though he was still watching Giles.

Slowly, Giles sank back into the couch, almost like a balloon deflating. "You… brought him back… from… hell?"

"yeah." Willow looked back at Angel, still not certain if she could look Giles in the eye after this. Considering all the things that Angelus had done, considering Jenny… Eventually, her gaze settled on Angel, and thus Willow was watching as his features changed to look human for the first time since he'd returned from hell.

"Oh dear." Was the only thing that Giles could manage to say.

End part 2.

From his position on the chair, Willow's father snorted. "That seems to have stumped him."

Glancing over, Willow realized that her dad was trying to hide his amusement behind the morning paper. It was a little amusing to see the way he was just sort of gaping, but… "I couldn't not try."

"You brought him back because of Drusilla?" Giles removed his glasses, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Granted, it is the morally correct thing to try to rescue someone, but… ahhh… That is to say, I distrust Drusilla. How can we know what her motives are?"

"Giles…" Willow tried to figure out the best way to put her feelings into words. She didn't really trust Drusilla either, except for the idea that she would want her Daddy to be safe. "It depends on what you mean. The first dreams… She wanted her Daddy to be safe. Away from the bad place, she kept calling it the place of blood and ashes. I have no doubts in her sincerity about that. She told me… she told me in the dreams that she'd tried, but couldn't bring him back."

"I suppose that's reasonable." Giles sighed, lifting his glasses back towards his face, halting with them barely touching at his temples. "Wait, you said the first dreams. There have been dreams since you brought him back?"

Willow sighed, almost wishing that she'd kept silent. "Yes. I thought… I thought that she was just checking up on him, wanting to make sure that he was okay. But… There was something that she said. It didn't make a whole lot of sense, but I could tell that she was afraid."

"Drusilla? Frightened?" Giles arched one eyebrow, sliding the glasses back into place. "Dare I ask why?"

"I'm not quite sure. She said something about plans, big plans that she and Spike didn't endanger. Something about screaming…" Frowning, she tried to remember the details of that conversation. "She said something about a snake hiding in the walls, growing bigger. And something about waiting for the right last meal, and minions to hush the screaming…"

"A symbolic snake, or a literal one?" Giles had slipped into research mode, his eyes narrowing slightly even as they looked a bit less focused. "What sort of minions, and what sort of meal?"

Shrugging, Willow looked into his eyes. "I think symbolic. She told me not to let him charm me, because he'd consider her daddy a threat. So, the snake is a person, and he's got minions to smooth over any disruption to his plans. And there was something about lambs lining up for the slaughter… It was all very confusing. But I know that she was afraid of this snake."

"And if this snake is dangerous enough to intimidate her…" Giles let the words trail off unspoken. If this snake was being mentioned with minions to hush the screams and a slaughter, it was likely a bigger bad than Drusilla and Spike. As Buffy had once put it, 'when scary things are scared, it's not a good thing'.

"Yeah. Maybe you can figure something out? You know, with the research?" Her voice was hopeful, and then Willow murmured the rest of her confession. "I have some of your books. One on Acathala, from before I realized it was Drusilla's version of a telephone call that was giving me weird dreams, and some on summoning and conjuring from figuring out how to bring Angel back."

"I still don't think it was a particularly wise idea, but, as you have said, it is too late to argue about that. He is here." Giles sighed, his thumb rubbing along the side of his finger, almost as if there was a thick sheet of parchment that he was examining. "It would be more productive to take the books back and see if I can determine any cause for Drusilla's… unease."

"Yeah, go ahead." Willow let her hand linger on Angel. "I think if I read any more about hell dimensions or ways of conjuring things out of them I'll scream."

Giles made his polite departure, looking rather unsettled by everything. By the return of Angel, the news of Drusilla's mental contact with Willow, and the threat that had the crazed vampires afraid.

Folding the paper, Willow's father looked over at her. "Willow, do we need to have that talk again about appropriate reading materials?"

Willow's other hand came up to cover her face, and she could feel herself turning bright pink. "Dad!"

End part 3.

Willow retreated to her room, not certain just how to deal with her father's half teasing comment. It was embarrassing to be teased about reading things that she shouldn't, but… It was kind of nice to be reminded that he cared. She wasn't entirely certain how she'd ended up so uncertain about her parents, feeling so distant, but she didn't like it.

Oddly enough, her arrival with Angel had been the shock to jolt them back towards each other. To remove the layers of secrets, to stop them from trying to hide the knowledge of vampires and monsters from each other. As a result, they were talking more than they had in years. They were growing closer, talking about plans and pasts, and just everything.

With a tiny giggle, she imagined trying to explain to Buffy and Xander that her parents had known about vampires all along. Except that Buffy was gone, she couldn't tell her anything. And Xander… Thinking of Xander caused the memory of hearing him tell Giles about the night of the Ritual, of hearing him lie. The lie hurt, and it made her stomach feel sick, and she didn't know how she'd be able to face Xander again. But she would have to face him eventually. The giggle was silent, and her smile faded.

"What do I do about it?" The whisper fell into the quiet of her room.

Angel glanced over at her, looking almost guilty as he examined a row of stuffed animals on a shelf. His finger was frozen in the midst of trailing over the worn velvet plush of a pink teddy bear. After a pause, he resumed his examination of the toys, with a thoughtful expression. Was he remembering things from his own childhood, many years ago? Was he thinking about his time in Sunnydale before, before Angelus, before Hell? Or was he just wondering why she had a row of child's toys carefully lined up on a shelf?

For a moment, Willow watched him. "You're right, I don't know enough. I need to know why he lied, why he said… what he said. There might have been a good reason, but…"

She felt her eyes prickling, and sniffled slightly, not wanting to cry. The words were very soft, just a thick whisper. "But it still hurts. He lied, and he used me in his lie."

Angel walked over, his eyes worried. He crouched in front of her, one hand resting lightly on her knee as he looked at her. Lightly, he raised his hand, fingers touching the single tear that had slipped onto her cheek. Slowly, as if fearing reprimand, he moved until he sat beside her. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her, and held her against him, rocking them gently as he hummed that same tune.

Willow closed her eyes, leaning back into Angel's embrace. It didn't erase the pain of learning that Xander had lied, it didn't give her the answer to what to do, but it made her feel better. She wasn't alone, and Angel would try to keep her safe.

She wasn't certain how long they stayed like that. Angel had stopped humming, slipping back into slumber on her bed, and she was still cradled in his arms. It felt nice, safe and comfortable. But eventually, she caught the smell of lunch, and her stomach informed her that it had been quite long enough since breakfast, thank you.

Carefully, she slipped out of Angel's arms. He looked so peaceful resting there… Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss, barely a brush of her lips over his forehead. Smiling, she left the bedroom, eager for lunch.

Lunch was good, and quickly devoured as Willow and her parents discussed college. They wanted her to get a degree and have a career, and kept insisting that 'fights evil' and 'can call two elements and retrieve vampires from hell' wouldn't be enough to get a good job in a few more years. Honestly, she wasn't certain that they were completely wrong, but she didn't think that she could just ignore the dangers out there now that she knew about them either. Not that her parents were completely ignoring those dangers, they just weren't exactly fighting them. Once they'd stared discussing things more fully, Willow had learned that her parents helped people who'd either been attacked by demons or lost people to them. It was a careful and traumatic niche of psychiatric help, but one that was definitely needed.

Things had gotten quiet after a while. Willow was left thinking about how much of her parents lives had been hidden, about how much easier it was to talk to them now that they weren't trying to hide the knowledge of vampires from each other. It was like a second chance with her family.

There was a knock at the door, and then Xander came into the house. His loose Hawaiian shirt and jean shorts were entirely Xander, as was the slightly too long and disheveled look to his hair. But he looked so worried.

"Willow! You're okay. I guess… umm… I kept trying to get a hold of you lately, and missing you." He stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing nervously at her parents. "Hey Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg."

"Xander." Her father nodded, folding his paper and putting it down. "Sheila and I need to go sort out a few things about our next conference, why don't you two just talk in here?"

"Sure, Dad." Willow had sighed, wondering if her dad was trying to give them privacy, or just not certain that Xander would talk if he was there.

"Giles said he talked to you earlier." Xander allowed himself to drop onto the couch, glancing at Willow. "So, are you… How's your back?"

"Healing." Willow sighed, feeling impatient. "The doctors said it would be okay, given enough time, but… It feels like it's taking a very long time."

"Yeah." Xander closed his eyes for a moment, and then glanced over at her. "So, did Giles have any news about Buffy? Any luck finding her, any new leads?"

"Nothing so far." Willow wanted to throw herself into Xander's arms and cry about things, much the way she would have when they were ten. Or to look over at him and ask him to tell her that everything would be okay. But time and the burning knowledge of his lie prevented her. Instead, she looked at the carpet, a hundred angry words dancing on the tip of her tongue. "So, you know, you never did tell me how things went."

"What things?" Xander was sitting up now, an eyebrow raised.

"When you went to tell Buffy that I was trying the spell again. Was she… did she have a plan, was she afraid? I want to know." Her fingers were laced together, knuckles white as she fought to keep from fidgeting. What would Xander say? Would he tell her the truth, or would there be another lie?

"Buffy? Ummm…" Xander looked away, one hand worrying at a loose thread on his shirt. "Yeah. That's sort of… painful. But I guess you deserve to know."

End part 4.

Willow took a moment to mentally count to a hundred. This was what she needed to know. What had happened, why he'd lied. If he would keep lying about that night. "Was she afraid?"

"I think so." His voice was soft, as if he was trying not to disturb someone. "But she was trying to hide it, to look confident and determined. I think she was terrified. Just her against the evil ex, and the fate of the world depended on her killing him in time."

"Ouch." Willow blinked back tears, not having quite thought of things that way. But Xander was right, Buffy's position had been horrible, the amount of emotional pressure on her…

"I just wanted her to be careful. To be strong." Xander's words were even softer, and Willow wasn't certain if he knew that he'd even spoke.

"Xander, what happened?" Willow leaned forward, trying to ignore the pull of the bruises. But they brought back her own memories of that night, of Kendra dying, of minions laughing and falling books, of being battered by compendiums of demons. Waking up in a hospital bed, a needle embedded in her arm and God and the doctors only knew what added into her veins. "I need to know."

"I… She had to fight him, to really fight him. We couldn't afford for her to be distracted by memories of Angel, by the whole my boyfriend the vampire thing. It was the fate of the whole world." Xander was looking at her, his eyes full of pain and pleading. "You understand that, right?"

"Giles told us all what Acathala could do. And I borrowed one of the books for a bit more research." The words emerged slowly. It felt as if he was on the verge of answers, and she didn't want to do anything to make him stop talking. If he wouldn't tell her…

"If Angelus had killed Buffy, the whole world was doomed. Not more dead bodies, a possible army of vampires, but sucked into hell and toasted doomed." He paused, sucking in a breath, one hand clenching into a fist. "I told her to kick his ass. I told her to fight."

Willow felt tears prickling at her eyes, and blinked, hoping that they'd go away. Xander had been afraid that Angelus would kill Buffy if she showed any distraction, any hesitation. "You didn't tell her about the spell?"

"I… I know you wanted me to tell her." Xander sighed, almost seeming to collapse. "But if she'd tried to take it slowly, if she'd tried to buy time to get her boyfriend back… I couldn't risk the whole world's fate on Buffy being able to kill Angelus when she thought there was a chance to get Angel back."

"I suppose it was a lot of pressure for her." Willow murmured. She understood Xander's reasoning, and had to agree with it. Buffy had spent a long time agonizing over the whole issue of Angelus and Angel, unable to separate the two in her mind. If she'd thought that she might have him back, would she have hesitated?

Part of her wanted to believe that everything would have worked out. That Buffy would have been able to save the world anyhow. Another part of her wasn't so certain. She remembered long nights of letting Buffy cry about her boyfriend going evil, about the terrible things that Angel was doing. That part whispered that Buffy wouldn't have been able to force herself to kill Angelus if she thought that she could get Angel back.

"So, to make sure that she'd fight, you lied to her?" Willow looked at Xander, needing to watch his face, needing to see how he was feeling. The words were harsh, and she knew they were harsh. But right now, she didn't want to soften her question.

"Yeah." His eyes were pool of pain. It didn't look as if he'd been sleeping very well either. "I lied to one of my best friends in the whole world, and the only reason that I could go through with it was because if I didn't, if she didn't fight, the whole world was doomed. The world! This is life, not a movie, the fate of the world shouldn't depend on a group of high school students."

"I know. It's not fair, but life isn't fair very often." Willow sighed. She didn't want to ask any more, but she had to know. She asked again, poking at it as if it was a sore wound. "How did you make Buffy believe it? I mean, what did you say?"

"The words were pretty easy. Figuring out what would make her fight, what would make her focus on beating Angelus. The hard part… The hard part was looking her in the eyes and lying." He rubbed at one eye, looking very tired all of a sudden. "I… told her that you were in the hospital. And I told her that you wanted her to kick his ass."

"You involved me in your lie." Willow spoke slowly, trying to stay… well, not calm, but at least not shouting. She'd known this already. But now she was learning the reasons why it had happened. Learning why Angel had been cast into hell. But no, surely Buffy had something to do with it as well? And she couldn't ask Buffy anything, couldn't demand to know why, or how she could send Angel to hell when she couldn't even stake Angelus. Her hands were shaking, and she squeezed her fingers more tightly together in a futile effort at making them stop.

"I'm sorry." Xander offered, and then paused a moment before he continued. "Doesn't quite fix it, does it?"

"No." Willow felt a tear running down her cheek, and had the sinking feeling that it wasn't the only one. But surely the tears were better than screaming? "I understand why you did it. I don't think she could have…. I don't think she would have fought as hard. But it hurts."

"Can we… are things going to be okay?" Xander's voice was soft, and he reached out, his hand barely brushing against hers.

Willow jerked her hands back, the fingers separating easily, trembling and pale. She didn't want Xander to touch her right now. His words echoed, crashing into each other. 'Willow said to kick his ass' ran headlong into 'I'm sorry' ran into 'I couldn't risk the world.' Willow drew in a shuddering breath, squeezing her eyes shut in an effort to make the words stop. Her hands closed into fists, and she clenched them until she could feel the faint bite of her nails gouging into her palms.

"I don't know." Willow whispered, the words the only honest answer that she could give right now.

End part 5.

End Truth Hurts.


	6. Stopgap Measures

author: Lucinda

content similar to show - violence involving humans and monsters, may contain moderate sexuality and mention of criminal activity.

main characters: Angel, Willow, Xander, Giles

disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any characters or concepts from the series Buffy the vampire Slayer

distribution: Bite Me, NHA, WLS/Will-Angel, WWW, Paula - anyone else ask. If you have permission for the earlier Guardian Angels, you may have this one.

note: Guardian Angels is set the summer after season 2, and has now gone firmly into AU territory.

thanks to Gabrielle for generally being a wonderful Beta reader.

Willow sighed as she looked at the stack of books on her desk. Books about summoning, and one on Acathla. They really needed to go back to the library, so Giles could keep them safe. Considering how long she'd had them, they'd be long since overdue if she'd actually checked them out, which she couldn't because they weren't on the official list. It would be rather hard to explain books on demon summoning to the school board, after all.

Glancing at the clock, she considered the time. It would be dark soon, which meant that the scary things would be coming out. She should definitely wait until Angel could go with her, to keep her from getting munched. Actually, he'd probably try to insist, even if he wasn't speaking again.

She looked over at him, stretched out along her bed. Angel looked so peaceful there, holding her pillow close to himself. Inside, she felt a bit of a guilty thrill at the sight of him sleeping so comfortably in her bed, and tried to push it away. "Angel? Are you awake?"

He moved, one dark eye opening to scan the room. Seeing her, he smiled as he stretched.

"Evening, Angel. The blood is over there," Willow gestured towards the cooler, still not quite sure who had put it there. "I think I should take some of these books back to the library, and I thought that you'd maybe go with me?"

He moved towards the cooler, though Willow was unsure if he understood herwords, or if he just understood that the cooler must hold blood. She turned her attention back to the pile of books as he fed, unsure if he would prefer to have privacy.

By the time he was finished, the sun had set, making the world safe for vampires. He helped her carry the books, giving her a frown that she was sure meant he thought the stack was too heavy for her to carry, though he was also giving the books a distrustful look. He sighed at the car, and glanced at her, as if to suggest there might be some better, safer form of transportation.

"Sorry, Angel, but it's the best way. I don't want to walk that far with all these books." Willow found herself wondering again how much Angel understood of her words, and how much of what she said amounted to just talking to make herself feel a little better.

The short drive was unremarkable, and she parked at the school, noticing that there were two other cars there as well. One was the familiar, battered, Citroen that Giles drove, and the other was a vaguely familiar red sports car. The plates reading 'Queen C' were enough to tell her that this was Cordelia's car. Willow just sighed, and began to pick up the books. The others would have to find out eventually that Angel was back.

Willow could feel herself tensing as they walked into the building. There were some bad memories for her in this place, of Dru's attack, of the Hellmouth nearly opening, of finding those dead bodies, the years of general misery... Why did she bring herself here so often anyhow? With a sigh, she reminded herself that it was to help keep the world a little safer.

As she approached the doors, she could hear Cordelia's voice, asking Giles something. "... all know that Kendra died in here. What I want to know is if that means there's another Slayer out there somewhere."

Willow blinked in surprise. That was actually a good question, and she hadn't even considered that possibility of another Slayer. Maybe there was more to Cordelia than met the eye?

"I'm not precisely certain about that, Cordelia. The circumstances that led to Kendra's calling were rather unconventional, and they might have had an effect on the passing of the Slayer essence. It all depends on if the line was passed to Kendra or remained with Buffy." Giles sounded tired, and he was probably polishing the lenses of his glasses as he spoke.

"So, I did something unconventional. Good for me?" Xander's voice was familiar, and brought up so many memories that Willow had to blink back tears.

"I definitely think so." There was a soft quiet after Cordelia's words.

Willow opened the doors, blinking at the sight of Xander and Cordelia kissing. Apparently, she wasn't the only person who hadn't been sharing everything. Xander certainly hadn't mentioned the pair of them being quite that close. For several long moments, she stood there, wondering if the pair of them realized that they weren't alone. "Am I interrupting?"

Xander and Cordelia jerked apart, Cordelia's back stiffening. Xander stared at her, his face growing pale as he made fish-like expressions of wordless concern and pointed. "V-v-v-v."

Cordelia spun around, and her irritated half-frown turned to shock. "Is he Angelus or Angel? And why is he standing there behind you, Willow?"

"Willow, I didn't expect to see you here this evening." Giles frowned as he looked at the armload of books that she was carrying, and the second armful that Angel held. "Dare I ask?"

"I'm returning some books that I borrowed earlier in the summer." Willow offered, feeling certain that she would have to answer a few more questions. "Angel wants to keep me safe from the other scary things out there."

"He's one of the scary things out there, or have you forgotten?" Xander asked, glaring at the vampire. "I thought he got killed during the whole Acathla mess. Remember Angelus? Dead bodies, taunting Buffy, threatening to kill us, a stone demon bent on sucking the world into hell? Why is he standing here?"

"The soul restoration worked." Willow answered softly, moving over to the table to put down the books. "Unfortunately, before that point, Angelus had already done whatever it was that triggered Acathla, and so Buffy... She... She stabbed Angel and sent him into the portal as it closed. He went... He was... sucked over to the other side."

"So, what happened to Buffy after that?" Cordelia asked, and then frowned. "How do you know what happened at the mansion? You were in the hospital."

"Drusilla started to contact me in my dreams. It... it really freaked me out, and that's why I grabbed the books about dreams." Willow let her hand rest on the big red book that Giles consulted for Buffy's Slayer dreams. "She finally came out and was blunt, she showed me images, Buffy and Angelus fighting, Angel sucked into the portal... Drusilla told me that she wasn't strong enough to get him out."

"That reminds me, Willow. How did you know that the dreams were an actual form of contact, instead of your own... err, imagination?" Giles looked at her, moving towards a chair with a teacup in front of it.

Cordelia nodded, and tapped her nails on one of the books. "Good question, how can we know that it wasn't just the stress from Her Craziness attacking you in the library and putting you in the hospital?"

"I wasn't sure at first." Willow admitted, moving towards an empty chair. She sat down, staring at her hands instead of looking at anyone. "But when she made the more solid contact, when she showed me what had happened, it was like I was walking in this fog, and I was in this long pale dress like the ones that she wears. I was still wearing it when I woke up."

"Wait, you dreamed of a dress, and woke up in it? Is that something that I could learn how to do?" Cordelia paused, for a moment looking lost in thought. "No, you said it was like the ones that she wears. Do you still have it?"

"Yes, I do. And yes, it still seems pretty freaky," Willow admitted, and then sighed. "It was really disturbing to find Drusilla in my dreams, and that's part of why I started grabbing books. Then I figured out that she was talking about Angel, so I grabbed some books on Acathla. I still didn't know what she wanted until the dream that left me with the new dress, which was when she showed me the portal opening and sucking Angel, with his soul, into a burning ring of fire."

"Sounds like a country song to me. Much as I like the imagery, why is he standing in the library now?" Xander asked, folding his arms and glaring at Angel. "It's not like he ever went out of his way to help us or anything. He was just in things for Buffy. Why go to that trouble for him?"

"Xander." Cordelia hissed, elbowing him sharply. "Remember Marcy Clark and her invisible rampage? Who did Giles say found you when you got locked in the boiler room?"

"umm..." Xander slumped in his chair, and sighed. "Angel."

Giles leaned forward, making this dismayed clucking noise. "Xander, you might have your problems with Angel, but now is not the time to discuss their validity. Having known Willow for as long as you have, do you think she could ignore someone that she knows being sent to such a place?"

"I guess not." Xander leaned his head on one hand. "But I don't have to like him, and I don't have to like him being here."

Willow closed her eyes, shutting away the image of Xander sulking. "I can't make you like anyone. But he's here, and he's... not the same. Can you just... give him a chance?"

For a moment, Xander scowled, looking from Willow to Angel and back again. "I don't like it. I guess I can give him a chance. But if he screws up, if it even looks a little bit like he's going to go evil again, I'm staking him. Things wouldn't have been nearly as bad if Buffy had done that the first time."

"We can't change the past, Xander. Playing 'what if' about everything that we did or didn't do, or what Buffy did or didn't do, won't give us anything but headaches." Willow glared at him, and then looked at Giles and Cordelia, hoping that they would both understand.

"I see your point." Giles replied, and sipped at his tea.

end part 1.

Willow looked at the table, seeing a scattering of newspapers, a map, and some notebooks. "So, what's being researched?"

"We were compiling a list of the bodies that might rise." Giles rubbed at the bridge of his nose, placing his glasses beside the teacup. "With Buffy… elsewhere, a bit more precision is required."

"We've been trying to get them when they first wake up, before they can figure out what's going on." Xander added, and looked at the map. "Whose idea was it to put the cemeteries so far apart anyhow?"

"Are you going out tonight? For staking, not as in a date." Willow asked, and then looked at Giles. "Actually, Cordelia had a good question. Is there a new Slayer, after… well, after?"

"The Council hasn't sent me any information." Giles sounded sad, and he suddenly seemed very interested in looking into his teacup. "We can only guess. Considering that Kendra did in fact die, there… Probably. As for Buffy…"

"We don't know." Willow nodded, understanding how much not knowing was frustrating the Watcher.

"So, why is Angel following you?" Cordelia glanced at Angel as she filed her nails.

"umm… He seems to think he needs to protect me from the nasties out there. Including the car." Willow shrugged, not entirely certain about that herself. "Maybe it's a sort of thank-you for getting him out of Hell? He looked… It definitely wasn't a vacation for him."

"So, now you have a cryptic guy lurking in the shadows and not talking while he follows you around. Some protection that is." Xander snorted.

"Actually, he killed the minion that tried to grab me in Willie's and the pair of demons that tried to get me by the car." Willow mused, considering the occasions. "He's not Buffy's cryptic-stalking-admirer anymore. He's definitely willing to do some hands-on stuff."

"He's still not talking." Cordelia observed, putting the file down. "So, were you trying to go on patrol with us?"

"Why not? I know I'm not a Slayer, and maybe I'm not at my best, but there's nothing wrong with my eyes, I can watch for someone climbing out of a grave as well as anyone else. Besides, I might be able to use magic." Willow tried to hide her unease. "Maybe if Angel's there, we might be less likely to get attacked by everything else."

"But he's a vampire." Xander grumbled, still glaring at Angel.

"They might be able to help." Giles murmured, and then chuckled. "Besides, do you think that you could talk Willow out of something that she's already decided should be done? Angel seems to listen to her, and I would hesitate to try to convince him to stay away from her."

"Well, at least he probably won't need to worry about the vampires being stronger than he is." Cordelia's words were hardly a ringing endorsement.

"Good, I have a car. Where do we start?" Willow murmured.

Angel gently touched her shoulder, and made a small sound.

Willow placed her hand over his, and tried to smile. "It's okay, Angel. We're going to go out hunting."

For a few moments, he was still, looking into her eyes as if he could pluck the meaning of her words from her mind. Or maybe he thought she could put the meaning into his. Just in case, she thought of walking through graveyards, of the newly risen vampires being staked. He made a thoughtful noise, and moved through the library, his eyes flickering around the room before discovering the weapons. With an obvious grin, he seized a sword, his fingers almost caressing the blade.

Chuckling, Willow called, "Yes, Angel, you can take the sword."

"Willow, are you sure this is a good idea?" Xander asked, glancing from her to Angel. "I mean, you were hurt pretty bad. Maybe you shouldn't go chasing dead guys in cemeteries just yet."

"No, I'm not sure it's a good idea, but I'm going," Willow insisted. "Angel's going to go with me, and he's not going to let me get hurt. I just… I want to help."

"I suppose someone should ask the obligatory question – are you certain that he will behave?" Giles sounded resigned, as if he already knew that asking wouldn't change her decision. Maybe he was asking for Xander and Cordelia's benefit.

"He's not going to hurt me," Willow sighed. "He didn't hurt you when you dropped by my house, and other than surprising mom by moving really quietly, he hasn't done anything that remotely endangered my parents, and we've been there for the past several days."

"Very well then. Perhaps you should follow in your car?" Giles suggested. "We're starting at Our Lady of Eternal Peace."

"Okay. I guess we'll meet you over there." Willow tried to conceal her nervousness. Yes, she'd said that she wanted to help. Yes, she'd insisted on going when she'd been given several opportunities not to. After all, she was just feeling so restless lately that almost any excuse to go out and do something sounded good, even a trip to Willie's to pick up more blood for Angel. Not that a trip to Willie's was very safe. But patrolling was probably even more unsafe, and the realization of what she'd just insisted on doing did nothing to ease her fears.

End part 2.

Angel followed close behind her as they walked back to the parking lot. The oddest part was that he stayed exactly two steps behind her and slightly to the left. The nagging thought that danced in the back of Willow's mind was that he was playing bodyguard, except that she didn't think he was playing at all. Angel seemed very serious. It still didn't tell her where he'd learned that sort of habit.

At the car, Angel just gave a warning growl to the car, tilting the sword slightly while standing near the hood. If the car had been alive and the headlights eyes, it was the perfect place to present the sword as a clear threat. When the car sat quietly after Angel's growl, he nodded and moved to the passenger door, giving Willow a smug little smile.

She smiled back, resisting the urge to laugh at Angel making certain the car knew who was in charge. Amusing as it was to her, he looked serious, and pleased at his status as her protector, so laughing might hurt his feelings. "I'm sure the car knows that it must behave or suffer your wrath, Angel. Now, on to the cemetery."

Angel settled into the car, letting the sword rest across his legs as she drove. He still ignored the seatbelt, not that Willow was surprised. The night looked calm, a few scattered clouds and a half moon overhead. It would have looked perfectly in place in one of those idealized paintings of Americana. "I guess it's a good night for demon hunting."

She parked near Giles' car, and Angel gave it a look as they stepped out. His eyes went from her car to Giles' car and back again, and then he gave a low chuckle. Willow was pretty sure that he was thinking her car looked bigger and meaner than Giles' car, not that it would be difficult. "They'll behave, Angel. Let's find Giles, okay?"

Angel stopped, standing by the gates with a an expression of concentration. He turned slightly, and then gave a small nod. Motioning for her to follow, he started to move towards the wall.

"Angel, I can't jump over the wall." Willow insisted when she realized that her vampire was ignoring the gate. "I'm not strong enough."

He looked at her for a moment before nodding. He held out his hand, as if inviting her to move closer, and made a soft rumble that resembled a purr. When Willow stepped closer, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close as he made an effortless leap over the fence. Once on the other side, he loosened his grip, though he kept his hand resting on the small of her back as he led them into the cemetery.

"Are you certain that you're prepared for this? Vampires are dangerous, and there are risks when those who aren't Slayers hunt them." Giles sounded reluctant, and from his words, he had to be talking to Xander and Cordelia.

"You say that like there's not danger anyhow." Xander's voice was easy for her to pick out. "Considering the way the vamps just love Sunnydale, we're in danger already. At least this way, we know where they'll be and we can be ready."

"I suppose there is some logic there," Giles admitted.

"So, how many are we expecting in here?" Willow asked, now close enough to see them as well as hear them.

"Only two in this cemetery. The list was somewhat short, so I suspect that the police might be missing some of the bodies during the critical period before rising." Giles sighed, and pulled a stake from his pocket, handing it to Willow. "You might need this."

Willow took the stake, looking at it uneasily. She could feel the wood grain, and it still smelled all sawdusty from being sharpened. Her nervousness doubled, and she swallowed, nodding at Giles to show that she understood how dangerous things could be. Angel's hand rubbed a little over her back, circling around the fading bruises.

"Our soon to be fanged guys are Joseph MacAllister and an unfortunate guy named Richard Dickens the second." Xander gave a small shudder, and shook his head. "Some parents shouldn't be allowed to name their own kids."

"Dick Dickens? That is terrible." Cordelia agreed. "I guess staking him will be an act of kindness."

"I'm actually more disturbed by the 'the second' part of the name." Willow commented, looking at the little paper. She'd already glanced at the gravestone, noting that they were in front of the hopefully soon-to-be final resting place for Joe MacAllister, who she thought had been a football player two grades ahead of them. "Someone who'd already suffered through his life with that name went ahead and inflicted it on his son?"

"Good point," Xander agreed. "Why don't you take a few steps back, you are still recovering. Maybe you and your lurky pal can figure out where double Dick is buried… and that sounded much worse out loud."

Willow snickered, and took a few steps away from the grave. Looking around, she sighed and took a careful step onto the gravestone she was next to. Murmuring a soft "Sorry, I'm not trying to be disrespectful," Willow stepped up to the top of the gravestone, using the higher view to look for another recent grave.

Willow blinked, trying to focus through the darkness to see. Slowly, she turned, and then froze. She wasn't sure about how fresh the grave was, but the group of vampires stalking their way past it and towards her and her friends was a definite problem. "Guys? Angel? Giles? We have a problem."

A growl and a half-muffled shriek from Cordelia told Willow that they didn't have one problem but two. Joe had woken up, and wasn't about to go down peacefully. The sound caused the other vampires to move faster, and it looked as if they were about to attack. This didn't look very good. Willow could feel herself tensing, and the small amount of magic that had returned felt all too inadequate for the situation.

Angel snarled what sounded like a word, maybe something in Russian or Turkish, and stepped between her and the charging vampires, the sword held at an angle.

"Back down, foreigner. Our fledgling, our prey." The lead vampire snarled, eyes focusing on Willow.

Giles turned, alerted by the sounds. "Oh dear…"

Angel moved, a blur that mere human eyes couldn't properly follow, and the closest vampire staggered back, one arm on the ground. A second blur and his head tumbled away, falling to dust. Angel growled something else, more words in that same strange language, standing between the vampires and Willow.

The other vampires didn't stand a chance. They were faster than humans, but Angel moved like liquid fury, cutting them down with snarled words that sounded as if he was either threatening them or insulting them. Not a single vampire came close enough to disturb Willow, and when Joe tried to grab at her, the sword slashed out, nearly severing his hand before the dirt-covered form of Joe flung himself back into Xander's stake.

Staring at the scattered dust, Cordelia murmured, "I take it back. He's useful."

Xander looked at Angel, and then at Giles. "So, wise and scholarly Watcher, what did he say? What language was that? Cause it was definitely not English."

"Err…" Giles looked at Angel, and then at Willow. "This might be more complicated than I'd originally thought. "We should find Mr. Dickens and return to the library, or possibly go home."

End part 3.

"I'm pretty freaked by that," Xander admitted. "Maybe we should just go back and… research? Oh no, I just volunteered to research."

"I think he was threatening them." Cordelia gestured, first at Angel and then at the scattering of dust. "What language was that anyhow?"

"What did it sound like to you?" Giles countered, glancing around the cemetery. "The cars are that way, if we're leaving."

"I think that might have been Russian." Cordelia decided, shaking her head. "We might as well go; I'd rather not have huge dark rings under my eyes when my parents decide to talk to me about my future tomorrow."

"I don't know, he sounded a bit like Taz to me." Xander countered, brushing the dust of Joe from his shirt.

"Taz?" Giles asked, looking distracted and a little confused.

"From Looney Tunes?" Xander offered, before explaining, "Pop-culture reference. A cartoon character."

As they were walking back towards the main gates, they could smell disturbed earth. A half turn revealed a vampire, trying to brush the earth off of himself as he stood beside a headstone. Behind him they could read the last name, Dickens.

"I guess we found Double Dick," Xander muttered. "Why couldn't he have stayed lost?"

The late Richard Dickens lunged forward, and Angel's borrowed sword flickered in the moonlight, severing the fledgling's head with casual ease. Angel just sniffed, as if disappointed, and shook his head, once again standing three paces behind Willow.

"Well, that's both of them, time to go." Cordelia shivered and made motions for everyone to hurry up. "Xander, I'll drop you off at home, okay?"

Willow watched as Xander and Cordelia settled into Cordelia's car, murmuring things about being worried, and being sweet to each other. For a single moment, she felt jealous that Xander wasn't looking at her like that, but it passed. He'd never looked at her that way, and it had become painfully obvious that he never would. He and Cordelia might be good for each other. Then again, they might break up in a horrible, painful disaster of harsh words and cruelty.

Giles waved for Cordelia and Xander to leave without him and turned to face Willow and Angel. "Willow? Can you give me a lift back to the library? I'd like to talk to you. I'm a bit curious about Angel's stay elsewhere."

Willow glanced at Giles, and then at Angel, who seemed to be studying Giles carefully. "You've got an idea, something about what might have happened to him elsewhere. You want to ask a few questions, and this all goes back to those words that weren't English or Russian."

"Well, yes," Giles admitted.

Willow just sighed. "Everybody in the car, we'll go back to the library. There's not too much that I can tell you. Wherever he went, it scared Dru, and she thought it would kill him. When he got back, he was underweight and covered with ashes. He hasn't said anything that I've understood, and if he's drawn any pictures, I haven't seen them."

"Ashes?" Giles made a thoughtful noise as he slid into the back seat of the car. "That would rule out a multitude of unpleasant places; some other dimensions are rather frozen, others are watery or filled with sand. Possibly the condition of his clothing when he returned might give a few clues…"

Willow could feel herself blushing. "There might be more clues if he'd been wearing any."

"What?" Giles blinked and pulled his glasses off, looking intently for any smudge or speck of dirt. "Are you telling me that he returned… err, that he was…"

"Naked. Kinda dirty, and naked." Willow glanced at Giles in the mirror and sighed. "He was in bad shape, Giles. Wherever he'd been, it was really hard on him."

For several blocks, there was silence, filled only with the not-sounds of embarrassment. Angel was sitting there, watching Giles as if he half-expected him to suddenly try to attack Willow while her back was to him. Willow wondered what theory was trying to form in Giles's head, and part of her mind was stuck on the memory of Angel's naked return.

"He seemed pretty confused about things." Willow offered, glancing for a moment at the reflected Giles. "He jumped at the running water, looked funny at the refrigerator, and he's been growling at the cars like he needs to establish dominance over them."

"I don't think he had any such difficulties before Acathla." Giles quieted, making a few thoughtful noises and tapping his fingers against the seat. "He would have had to be there considerably longer than a few months to forget about cars and indoor plumbing."

"Some of those books that I borrowed talked about time passing differently in other dimensions. None of them said 'this one is through Acathla', so I don't know how long he was there. I think he was there a really long time, though." Willow looked over at Angel, and gave the vampire a smile. "But he's been trying to keep me safe."

"I have to wonder why," Giles murmured.

"Gee, thanks, way to make me feel better," Willow grumbled. "I kinda thought it was a good thing that he didn't want to let any of the scary things get me."

"Yes, of course that is a good thing. I was simply wondering what sort of implications it holds for his time there. Was it some sort of conditioning from his time on the other side? Gratitude for your rescuing him? Memories of before?" Giles shook his head. "This raises quite a few questions."

Willow just sighed. Giles was always trying to find answers. For that matter, she did that a lot of the time as well; but it just gave her the wiggins to consider Angel protecting her as the latest big mystery of the Hellmouth. If Giles kept this up, it would feel almost good when he went away looking for Buffy again. Her life was just so weird sometimes.

End part 4.

Willow parked her car near the library, the nearly empty lot giving her an uneasy feeling. She glanced over at Angel, seeing the way that he was looking around, checking for dangers. "We're back at the school, Angel. Time to go back into the library and hope that Giles and his books can give us answers."

Angel didn't say anything, and opened the car door before sliding out, sword in hand. His posture made it clear that any attacker would be dealt with, probably harshly.

"Has he spoken to you, Willow?" The question was soft, as if Giles didn't want to give Angel any ideas of danger.

"Not while I was awake. He listens when I talk, but he hasn't been talking to me. A few sounds, but not really words." Willow tucked the keys into her pocket and looked at Angel. "Some of his dreams were unhappy, and it sounded like he was talking, but not in English. I didn't recognize the words."

"Do you think they might have been the same language as the one he used in the cemetery?"

"Maybe. It's hard to tell." Willow sighed and started walking towards the doors, unsurprised when Angel fell into position a little behind her. "There were books there, but from the way he's been acting, I don't think there were public libraries. It's like he's afraid something bad will happen to him if he touches the books."

Giles made a thoughtful noise and walked to the library, immediately going to one of the back shelves and pulling a few books. He was muttering things about language patterns, time differentials, and someone named Bukovich who was apparently a pompous, rambling prat. Willow wasn't quite certain, but she assumed that Giles didn't like Bukovich, whoever he was.

Angel moved, standing between Willow and Giles, watching the stack of books suspiciously. Carefully, he put the sword on the table, within easy reach. Giles ignored that, as well as Angel's suspicious looks, and flipped through books. Finally, he stopped turning pages, pointing at something in the fourth book with a soft "aha."

"What did you find?" Willow asked, stepping closer. Peering over his shoulder, Willow blinked in surprise. "Giles, are those notes scribbled in the margins?"

"Err…" Giles blushed, and then sighed. "Yes. One of the senior Watchers was explaining about some of the demonic dimensions that also contain humans; it was a required course for young Watchers. As I recall, one of the others from that class is now a writer who uses some of the things covered in demonic studies as inspirations for a series of fantasy novels."

"How much of an inspiration?" Willow glanced at Angel, seeing the tension in him. "Is there enough to give us an idea what Angel went through?"

"Not really, but in a way there are clues. There are enough things that have been drastically changed that we can not use it as a means of demon identification or the identification of weaknesses, but close enough in describing places that we can get an idea of how unappealing the location would be." Giles sighed and adjusted his glasses. "The best we can do right now is look over the information on other dimensions and hope that one of them seems to match up with his new behaviors."

"Giles, how much information is there on these dimensions, and how current would it be?" Willow pulled another book from the stack and started to leaf through the pages. "If time flows differently, what's in the books as the current situation of a dimension may be as current there as stuff about ancient Rome is here."

"Sometimes it's very frustrating to have such facts brought up," Giles muttered, looking back to his book. "I do understand that concern, and there is nothing that we can do about such things. Frustrating as it is to know that some of the information will be out of date, I have no desire to go traipsing through demon-controlled dimensions to update the books."

Willow shivered, agreeing, "That really doesn't sound like something that would be fun or safe."

"One of the dimensions referenced had a vast human population, believed to have been taken from Middle Eastern and Roman areas. However, there were many demons there, and the humans held a significantly lower status in society. Ordinary humans were… rather expendable, though mages could attain positions of some power. Generally this was done through a combination of magical power, ruthless dealings, deals with demons, and occasional assassination. This dimension also had vampires, who were used as gladiators and assassins, occasionally as bodyguards."

"You think Angel may have been there?" Willow was guessing, but it seemed like the only logical reason for Giles to be searching through those books. "Did this place connect to Acathla, or are there other nasty dimensions with humans?"

"There was no mention of Acathla in connection to this specific dimension," Giles admitted. "There are quite a few dimensions that have humans, though they are frequently in rather unappealing positions. There is mention of a place where humans are used as serfs to grow food for what sound a great deal like unkind elves, and another where they are used as slaves by a particular species of green demon. Unfortunately, the Watchers have never had the resources to try to make any sort of rescue efforts, and sadly, very few of the past leaders have been inclined to worry about the fates of humans in other dimensions."

"Well that's not very nice," Willow sighed, and looked back at Angel. "So, what's the info we have on the place with the vampires? Considering the way he's acted since he came back, I don't think he was somewhere that he had to hide his fangs."

Glancing over at the still watchful Angel, Giles nodded. "I agree, he certainly doesn't seem worried about his fangs showing. If he was there long enough to learn a new language, and to return naked, I suspect that he was there for quite a while. Hmm… If there was a way to check how old he is now, we could determine how long he was away."

"Is there a spell for that?" Willow asked, wondering just when and how such a spell would have been developed.

"If there is, I don't think I have a copy of it," Giles replied. Sliding the book towards her, "Here is the section on that dimension. Read it and tell me if you think it fits his behavior."

Willow started to read, growing more and more disturbed with every page.

End part 5.

Angel moved closer to Willow, his eyes flickering to Giles and then around the library, as if he expected something dreadful to happen. Willow reached out, resting her hand on his shoulder, and he leaned in, resting his head against her leg. She scratched lightly over his scalp, hoping that it might help him relax, and he sighed, tilting his head to allow her to reach the nape of his neck.

"This would be much simpler if he could tell us where he spent his time," Giles grumbled, not quite looking at Angel. "Too much of this is guesswork, and I dislike such imprecision."

"Do you think the Watchers would have any of this on a computer database?" Willow asked, frowning at a particularly unappetizing woodcut of people who were either being horribly tortured or were amazing contortionists.

Giles made a rather rude snort.

Angel glared at him, a small growl rumbling. His lips parted, and a few strange words emerged, nothing like English, and rather menacing sounding. The words ended on a firm note, as if he were uttering some threat.

"Does that mean no computer database?" Willow murmured, pressing her hand against Angel's shoulder, not that she would be able to keep him from attacking Giles if he really wanted to do so.

For a moment, Giles stood in silence, staring at Angel, before he murmured, "That wasn't English. Closer to Turkish, but not the same… The structure seemed different."

"Giles… I know Angel didn't just threaten you in English," Willow sighed, and rubbed along Angel's arm, hoping to soothe him. "You're right though, there probably isn't a database. I should have expected that."

Angel leaned into her touch, his muscles slowly relaxing. His hand lightly touched her knee, as if he was uncertain if he had permission to touch her. A few more of the strange words emerged, but these were spoken softly, almost beseechingly, to Willow.

"Giles? Have you found any good leads about Buffy?" Willow took a small breath before continuing. "Are we even sure if she's still… well? Do we know anything for sure beyond the fact that Kendra died and Buffy isn't in Sunnydale?"

"No, we don't," Giles admitted. "Perhaps I should contact the Council and see if… see if there's any news."

"And on that dismal note, shall I take my vampire and go home?" Willow offered.

"You might as well, I don't think we'll get any further tonight," Giles dismissed them.

Willow took a few steps towards the door, Angel falling into step just behind her. "Goodnight, Giles."

She couldn't wait to get back home and curl up for some rest. Angel would probably curl up beside her, something that she now found soothing rather than unsettling. Just a young witch and her vampire, trying not to feel alone on the Hellmouth.

End part 6.

End GA5: Stopgap Measures.


	7. Interlude: Acceptance and Value

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He had a name now, or perhaps again. It had taken him a while, but he'd determined that when Red Woman used the group of sounds 'Ayn jel' she was referring to himself. Not in the form of his role, the tasks that he was responsible for, or to his nature as a blood drinker, which seemed to be the meaning of the word 'vahm pire', but him. He didn't know if it had been his name before he'd been sent to the Bad Place, or if she'd given him a new name for her own whim. It didn't matter.

The fact that Red Woman used a name for him meant he had individual value to her. This idea was reinforced by the fact that she'd taken him with her to the home of her parents, a bleeder woman and a lesser Magi man. No, he must remember that they were called humans here, one human, two humans, three humans... don't just grab one because you're hungry. Even if there were many of them that seemed to be under no protection at all.

Protection was important. This place had many blood drinkers, the vahm pires, and many demons, and most of them seemed willing to feed on the bleeders, humans. He shook his head, reminding himself to use the right words. Vahm pires and humans.

Red Woman had permitted him to guard her when she spoke with some of her allies. There was another Magi, not as strong as Red Woman, but stronger than Red Woman's father, his body beginning to weaken with age. Perhaps he was Red Woman's instructor in magic. If so, he'd best be alert for the slightest sign that the old one might betray Red Woman, or that he'd decided her power was a possible threat. Too often, the Magi turned on each other, fighting, weakening each other.

Yet another reason for one of the Magi to have guards. The old Magi's guards seemed to be a young warrior, oddly enough a human, and there was the female that had accompanied them, the young warrior's woman. Neither of them trusted him.

He'd decided that Red Woman's injuries were an obvious sign that whoever had been her guard before had not been very capable, or perhaps poorly motivated. Her injuries were signs of surviving an attack, not from some sort of accident or too much magic, though she'd only slowed her recovery by bringing him to her side.

Hunting the unaffiliated demons and vahm pires was a dangerous task, one that few humans would be well suited to accomplish. More likely that they'd become the vahm pire or demon's meal. But he'd watched them at the enclosure with the rows of carved stones. They had been hunting, seeking the vahm pires when they were still young and weak, before they could first feed and gain their strength. The way they knew what was happening showed that this wasn't their first time hunting, and they had done quite well, considering. Not as dangerous as he was, but he was a vahm pire, not a fragile human.

Red Woman could be too easily injured out hunting and fighting. Ayn jel didn't like it, and lacked the words to persuade her to remain in a protected place and destroy her prey with spells. Between Red Woman's stubbornness and her current weakness, he had been busy. As frustrating as it was that demons and weak vahm pires kept attacking her, it had given him a chance to show his usefulness, to prove his loyalty to her.

As he watched Red Woman sleep, he wondered if he would be so willing to guard her if she had not brought him to her presence, brought him away from the Bad Place. If he would have served her before he'd gone to the Bad Place. A part of him whispered that he hadn't, that he'd served no one, proud and stubborn in his independence, only fighting beside the Yellow Woman who lurked in his dreams, smiling, fighting, stabbing him and sending him into the Bad Place. Another part, that darker part that whispered that there were so many bleeders about nobody would miss one or two, that part felt that he might have given his service to anyone who had brought him out of the Bad Place, brought him out and given him blood and a place of safety. It was the darker voice within him that made him such a skilled fighter, but it was the other voice that had prevented him from giving his allegiance to any in the Bad Place. This voice wanted someone that was more than strong, but someone who was worthy. That was the voice that enjoyed Red Woman's kindness so much.

The darker voice was insisting that if Red Woman kept going out to fight, she would be injured again, even if he was much better than the wretched weak demons and vahm pires of this place. Even his darker voice didn't want that to happen, because without the patronage and protection of the Red Woman, even if that was not as impressive as the patronage of the Magi in the Bad Place, he would find survival much more difficult. Hardly impossible, but why let things get that much more difficult if he could prevent it by keeping one Magi alive? No, her continued survival and improved health would only be to his advantage, especially once her health remained good due to his guardianship.

She had to get stronger, more capable. He had no doubts about her innate power, but her training… ah, the older Magi had not given her the training that she deserved. Though Red Woman was very clever, perhaps if he could find her the Books of Power, she could improve without special instruction. Why else would so many Magi guard their Books of Power so carefully? With a nod to himself, Ayn jel decided that he would have to find Red Woman more Books of Power, even if that meant taking them from those who were less worthy of owning those Books. It would be tricky, but he could do it.

Yes, it was good to have an ambition as well as current responsibilities. It kept him alert, and would continue to prove his value to Red Woman if he brought her more Books of Power. Perhaps if he pleased her enough, she would reward him? And if he took the Books of Power by killing those who were her enemies… yes, beneficial to Red Woman and perhaps tasty.

He really was clever to devise such a good plan.

End Guardian Angels Interlude: Acceptance and Value.


	8. Becoming Accustomed

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Willow sighed as she closed another book of demons. Xander and Cordelia had reported that their date had been interrupted by a 'big, scaly purple thing with back spines and a tail.' Well, that had been Cordelia's description, Xander had called it 'a single-story lavender Godzilla without the atomic breath.' It hadn't deliberately attacked anyone, but the sheer shock and size of it had caused panic. Giles, as the Watcher, had set them to researching to identify it, determine if it was a threat, and figure out how to kill it.

She just hoped that Angel would be alright by himself. He'd been soundly asleep when she'd left. Ordinarily, she would have left a note, but Angel didn't seem quite like he'd understand such a thing right now. Her parents had agreed to try to let him know what was going on, but they shared her worries about his currently shaky grasp of English.

The vampire that had become her protector wasn't the same brooding cryptic guy that had followed Buffy.

It didn't help that they hadn't found any clues about the snake in the walls that had Drusilla so frightened. She knew that was a threat - not how, or what it could do, but that it was a danger. As Buffy had put it, when scary things are scared, it's time to worry. The purple mini-Godzilla was big and not well suited to moving among humans, but that wasn't a sign of evil.

"Have you had any luck?" Giles asked, setting a cup of tea beside her.

"I've found a lot of things that it wasn't," Willow offered, taking a sip of the tea. She preferred coffee, but tea with a shot of cream and two sugars was tolerable. And the day Giles brewed up coffee instead of his beloved tea she'd have to check him for possession.

"Perhaps I shall have to see if there is any information at Willie's?"

"That might be a good idea," Willow paused. "Do you think he'd know anything about this snake in the walls sort of threat that Dru was mentioning? Or that he'd have anything useful to share?"

"The man's livelihood depends on information and being aware of dangers. He may not have facts, but I'm certain that he is aware of any sort of greater threat manipulating events, even if he can't name names or point to facts. Whether he is capable or willing of sharing that information is a separate question. He might not be able to give any clear and certain facts, only a series of could be coincidences and feelings."

"Couldn't those coincidences give us a place to start looking?" Willow offered. She knew that it could work like that in hacking, but there might be a big difference between getting demon related information out of a snitch and manipulating computer programs.

"Quite possible. I shall see if I can gain any information from him tonight," Giles murmured. Familiar with how Willow organized the books around her, he took the stack that she'd finished searching to clear a bit of table space.

"I just feel like we don't know enough," Willow leaned her chin on her hand, absently turning the page. This revealed a page on Maerrocholiths, and a footnote that they seemed to have experienced a population drop on the West Coast about a decade ago, cause unknown. The picture suggested that this wasn't a big loss.

"A frustration that I share," Giles agreed.

end part 1.

As it happened, Willow had good reason to worry about what her vampire would be up to without careful supervision. Her parents had managed to convey that she'd left with Giles, though they were certain that Angel didn't approve and probably missed most of their attempted explanation. He'd growled several things in a language that the Rosenberg parents couldn't identify, and waited impatiently for dark before leaving the house.

He hadn't headed towards the high school.

If someone were able to read his thoughts, they would quickly become aware that he had an obsessive need to remain of use and benefit to his self-chosen mistress, the Red Woman. Willow. That he felt her skills in magic were not all that they could be, and that gaining power and skill would be of benefit to her. That one of the benefits that he could offer her was the ability to kill her enemies before they could attack her. And that any compunction that he may once have possessed about looting the corpses or lairs of the fallen – especially those that he'd put down – was long since burned away.

The fact that neither Willow nor Giles could read Angel's mind probably helped them sleep easier.

He had decided that his mistress needed to improve her skills, to learn more magic. Different sorts of magic, magic that her mentor didn't know. That way, she would have tricks that the older magic user wouldn't expect if he ever decided to betray her. He couldn't find her another teacher, not until he could remember or relearn the language of this place. But he could find her Books of Power, where others had written the secrets and ways of their power.

Frowning, he decided that he should probably stick to taking the Books from demons that used magic. The group that she worked with - the older mage and the young warrior and the warrior's woman – seemed to place importance on protecting the humans. So he would leave the humans who had magic alone unless he was certain they were doing things that his mistress would not like. It would be easiest to take the Books from demons who were not very strong with their magic. Fortunately, he knew just where to find a few of those – and they could become a threat to his mistress if they learned of her. Killing them and giving their Books to her would both protect her from a threat and help her to gain power.

He made his way towards the cemetery closest to the ocean, plans forming and twisting in his mind. There was no reason not to destroy some of the new vahm pires before they could endanger his mistress. If he could find enough that they were a challenge, it might even be fun.

End part 2.

Willow hadn't been surprised that Angel arrived at the library, where he soon began to lurk protectively near her. What surprised her about it was that he didn't appear until almost four hours after the sun had set. He'd been obsessively protective of her since he'd woke up after being brought back, so… what had he been doing in those four hours?

He moved closer, giving the picture in the book a growling glare, and Willow noticed that there were marks on the underside of his arm – marks in that fuzzy area between deep scrapes and slashes. There was also blood under his nails, though the almost purple color suggested that it wasn't human. Those things combined to suggest that he'd been in some sort of fight.

Willow looked at the information about the demon in the picture, a six to seven foot scales creature that looked rather like a humanoid lizard, complete with big lizardy eyes and long whippy tail and frilly spines along its back. The notations described the species as opportunistic feeders of a primarily carnivorous nature, often scavenging the kills of more dangerous beasts and demons. They were also described as having a highly infectious, possibly venomous bite and almost purple blood. "Angel, did you fight one of those?"

He made a noise, one that somehow combined a little growl with a sheepish note, and murmured a few words in that same odd language that he'd been using since his return. The one that sounded similar to Russian or Turkish, but it definitely wasn't the Russian that her Grandmother's dear friend Katya had spoken.

"You got into a fight with at least one of those, didn't you?" Willow changed her words slightly, giving him a look that she hoped conveyed that she didn't want any evasions or excuses.

For a moment, Angel was quiet as only a vampire could be. Then he made a soft noise, and carefully extended three fingers before tapping those fingers against the drawing of the lizardy demons.

"You fought three of them?" Willow murmured. Then, just in case her words didn't make sense to him, she tried to use one of her spells that she was still working on. She couldn't cast a proper illusion that would disguise a person or object, but she could do slightly blurry, translucent miniatures. The little Angel was about as tall as her hand, and it faced three look alike little lizard demons that were slightly taller than the translucent Angel.

Angel blinked at the small illusion, and then grinned. He spoke a few more words, and Willow found herself thinking of one of the almost caves near the beach, where the ground made a sharp drop off before a rather stony shoreline. The area was dreary and uncomfortable enough that people… humans generally avoided it. But if there were caves in the taller ground, then that might make good demon lairs, assuming the water didn't get that high during high tide. Biting at her lip, she tried to add that area in as a background for the illusion.

Angel's smile became wider, with just a hint of sharp teeth, and he tried to flatten one of the little demons with his hand. He looked terribly disappointed when his hand had no effect on the illusion.

"Three of them… very impressive, my guardian angel." Willow glanced over at Giles before asking the librarian, "Will things wait if I go home for some sleep? The letters are starting to blur together."

"Of course, do get some rest. Will you be safe on the way home?"

"My vampire's here to watch over me," Willow grinned.

She couldn't decipher the words that Giles muttered, but Willow suspected that he was less than pleased with the idea of a guardian vampire. Or of her having a vampire anywhere near her. If it hadn't been for the disastrous ending of Buffy and Angel dating, Willow would think he was just being old-fashioned and silly. Instead, she thought he was being protective in his own way.

"I'll be leaving now, with Angel watching over me and keeping me safe from the nasties out there. Night, Giles," Willow called.

It made her feel much safer to have Angel following the now-expected three steps behind her. A corner of her mind wondered when and how she could possibly have become used to having a vampire following her, lurking and killing anything that threatened. Another part was marveling at the obvious adaptability of the human mind. First, she'd become used to the idea that monsters were real, that vampires and demons were out there, that magic was real. Then the idea that she could do magic started to seep in, first little magics, and then, when the desperation of Angelus and Acathala and all that, the idea that she might be good at this magic stuff. Now, the idea of a protective guardian vampire…

Who could guess what she'd be calm about in another five years?

End part 3.

As a pair of vampires tried to attack her half way down Maple Avenue, Willow decided that she had probably stayed too late researching. Most likely, the vampires had followed her for a while, and she hadn't noticed them. One of them wore a Sunnydale Razorbacks football conference shirt, suggesting that he was fairly young, as vampires went. Which meant that the other one was also probably young. She just stood there blinking as the pair of vampires tried to attack her, snarling something about ripping her throat open and… well, what had stuck the most was the absurd thought that they were using awful grammar. She was definitely not in a good state for walking out and about if her only clear thought about graphic death threats was a grammar critique.

It seemed that the vampires with bad grammar hadn't noticed Angel. But Angel had noticed them – he'd waited until they lunged before he'd attacked. There had been some sort of graceful motion that seemed too fast, too flexible. Willow was left with the impression that he'd somehow kicked the one vampire in the chin while dragging the second downwards. She'd had a brief impression that Angel was upside down, and the first vampire was dust while the second had staggered back to his feet, whining about 'you booted me in the head!'

That was all he'd had time to say before Angel ripped his heart out. Just… his hand moved, and for a moment he was holding a heart before the heart – and the other vampire – burst apart into dust. The whole thing was very Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, but with a little less fire and tattoos. Willow smiled at Angel, feeling grateful beyond words that he'd been there, that he was keeping her safe. "Thank you, my guardian Angel."

Nothing else registered on Willow until she found herself staring at her bedroom door. The door that was closed. For a moment, she just blinked at it, wondering why the door was closed, her room dark… Oh, right, because it was well after midnight, and she hadn't let any lights on inside. Didn't she have a key somewhere… Where had she left her keys?

Several long moments of thought brought only a fuzzy memory of her keys on her desk, beside her computer, or perhaps in the pocket of her brown jacket. A quick glance at her shoulder showed that she wasn't wearing her brown jacket. Even with her mind not working right due to exhaustion and too many demon books, she still remembered that her fish tank, now fish-free, was inside her room. The room that she'd already established was locked.

With a fizzy feeling of irritation, Willow glared at the door. What good was the whole magic thing if she was still getting locked out at night, or locking herself out? "Just open already."

The door clicked and then swung open in front of her.

Angel's arm behind her towed her into the room. Willow didn't look as she heard the door close behind them. The door was supposed to be closed at night – that would help keep out the bad things that wanted to eat her.

With a noise that sounded rather like a chuckle, Angel gave a gentle push towards her bed.

"Hint taken, going to bed. Pushy over-protective vampire…" Willow mumbled. Her jacket fell to the floor, and she stumbled towards the bed. The shoes slipped off in the middle of the floor, and Willow slid under the covers. She briefly thought about taking off some more of her clothing, but the idea of struggling with buttons and zippers and… no. Just no.

She was asleep before Angel had finished moving the shoes and jacket to her computer chair instead of the middle of the floor. Willow didn't stir as Angel removed his own shoes before settling on the bed next to her, one arm wrapping around her stomach as he snuggled against her warmth.

A stack of books, some splashed with a dark purple substance, sat unnoticed beside her computer. As tired at Willow had been, she wouldn't have noticed them if they'd been glowing instead of just spattered with demon blood. It would be morning before she discovered the offering from her vampire.

It was quite astonishing and disturbing what the human mind could get used to, given enough time.

End part 4.

End Guardian Angels 8: Becoming Accustomed.


End file.
